I dream of Bunnies
by WriterKos
Summary: An accident brings a new member to the McGee's household, a new companion for Jethro the dog and a twenty-five year old secret to the Navy Yard. After all, there is no purer love than that from a dog.Crossover with the Dean Koontz novel 'The Watchers'.
1. Chapter 1

**_Title: I dream of Bunnies_**  
><strong><em>Author: WriterKos<em>**  
><strong><em>Rating: FR15<em>**  
><strong><em>Parings: none<em>**  
><strong><em>Characters: McGee, Jethro the dog, and the whole gang<em>**  
><strong><em>Genres: Drama, Casefile, Crossover<em>**  
><strong><em>Warnings: Cuteness overdose<em>**  
><strong><em>Summary: An accident brings a new member to the McGee's household, a new companion for Jethro the dog and a twenty-five year old secret to the Navy Yard. Crossover with the Dean Koontz novel 'The Watchers'.<em>**

**_Chapter 1: Crossroads_**

**_In Dog's heaven there will be plenty of bunnies to chase, bones to chew and shoes to destroy. - Kos_**

**_Saturday_**  
><strong><em>Somewhere along Sligo Creek Parkway, Silver Spring Area just outside DC.<em>**  
><strong><em>10:47 pm<em>**

She knew she was in trouble. The crash had been swift; a blitz attack that had blindsided their defenses and left her friend dead and she incapacitated. There was no way they could have stopped the car once it T-boned theirs in that intersection. It drove straight through the red light, killing instantly the driver, erasing the light behind those smiling brown eyes.

The anguished cry and the surprised look in Janice's eyes would always haunt her as her last concern had been her safety. Her hands instinctively went to the side in a vain effort to protect her from impact, despite the seatbelt that in theory should keep her secure.

Escape had been the first thought to cross her mind. But desertion wasn't an instinct bred into her family, so she whimpered and touched gently the lifeless hand that for so long touched her with kindness whenever thunder rolled and hurt her ears.

But now that comforting touch was gone. She was on her own. She struggled with the belt that held her prisoner. The scent of fuel started to become overwhelming and the danger of an explosion started to worry her troubled mind.

Finally free, she whimpered as the extent of her injuries became known: glass shards had somehow embedded into her skin with the impact, making tiny cuts that were now bleeding profusely; her seatbelt had been awkwardly positioned, having snagged on one of her limbs and resulting in a snap from one of her bones, thus rendering said limb useless.

Another driving-by car stopped to observe the crash, their occupants stepping out and coming closer to the wreck to check if there were any survivors.

"There's no way someone could have survived this, dude." One onlooker muttered as he approached with careful steps the mess of metal, aware of the sharp scent of fuel mixed with the metallic scent of fresh blood in the air.

Before they reached their car she jumped out of the wreckage through the broken window, whimpering as she supported her weight on the broken limb. Her other limbs shook with shock, making each step true agony.

She heard the approaching steps of the curious onlookers and dragged her sorry ass away from the crash, leaving a trail of droplets of blood as she crawled on the asphalt towards the grass on the shoulder of the road.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Hey, can you hear me, ma'am?" One of the onlookers knelt close to the overturned car and looked inside, finding only lifeless brown eyes staring at him, the irregular angle of the driver's neck showing the cause of death.

"This one is dead. Check the other car." He shouted to his colleague, who ran to the other mess of scrap metal and, after peeking inside, found the same lifeless eyes staring at him. He stood up and looked at his friend, shaking his head sadly.

Gray eyes turned back to the sedan, seeing the seatbelt fastened on the passenger seat and droplets of blood on it, but no sign of a body anywhere on sight. Curious, he went around the wreck and found the broken window and a small trail of blood leaving it towards the grass a few steps away.

He followed it and took his cell phone out of his pocket, turning it on and using the light to illuminate the area in front of himself.

"Is anybody out there?"

His phone light was faint but enough to be captured by two yellow pupils staring straight at him. Growling was heard, immediately making him become alert to the imminent threat. He took a step back and stared at the animal before him, who raised its hackles and barked ferociously, before breaking into a run towards the night despite the blood and the broken paw.

"What was that?" His colleague ran to his side, just to watch as the animal disappeared behind some crates a few yards away.

His friend shrugged, his mind not worried about it anymore. "It's just a dog. Have you called 911? We have to report the accident."

"Yeah, I did. They will be here in a couple of minutes."

"What a mess, man. The chick in the sedan was cool. Pity the accident broke her neck."

"Man, only you would check out a dead chick."

"I'm not dead, man. She might be, but I bet she was a foxy lady while alive."

They chuckled, despite the horrific accident that had just sowed two lives, the existence of the dog forgotten. Once the emergency responders arrived, they wouldn't even mention it to them as they considered it unimportant, a fact that completely slipped from their minds.

After all, it was just a dog.

Or so they thought.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

**_Sunday_**  
><strong><em>Big Sur Area, California<em>**  
><strong><em>Residence of Samuel 'Travis' Spencer Hyatt<em>**  
><strong><em>4:55 am<em>**

The sharp ringing of the phone cut the night and woke the two slumbering people on the bed. The woman just moaned and rolled to the other side, covering her head with a pillow while the man groaned as he rolled on his back, his hand blindly seeking the offending piece of technology which dared to interrupt his slumber.

"Someone better be dead," Travis said in a scratchy voice, his eyes squinting to check the time on red numbers blinking at him from the bedside table.

"You might just have your wish fulfilled," Lemuel Jackson, ex-NSA agent and now a happy retiree in Florida, said in a don't-mess-with-me voice, leftover trait from his days working as a government agent. His words immediately woke Travis up, who turned the bedside light on and silently shook his wife's shoulder trying to wake her up.

"What's wrong?" Nora muttered as Travis mouthed Lemuel for her.

His attention back on the phone in his hands, Travis asked dreading for the answer yet to come, "Who?"

"Janice."

Travis closed his eyes deeply feeling the loss of one of the members of their motley crew. "How?"

"Car accident a couple of hours ago just outside DC. I was listed as her next of kin. Janice had no family to speak of but still it took a while for them to find my number and notify me."

"What about…"

"That's where things get complicated."

"What are you talking about?"

"We've lost a dam, Travis."

Travis breathing hitched, as that was one of their greatest fears and the beginning of one of their worst nightmares.

"There was no mention of a dog with Janice in the car and nobody reported seeing it at the accident site. I'm catching the first flight out to check it out." Lemuel sighed loudly. "We've lost Freckles, Travis. And her litter."

"Damn."

- tbc -


	2. A day in the park

_**Chapter 2: A day in the park.**_

_**If your dog is fat, you're not getting enough exercise. ~Author Unknown**_

_**Sunday Morning  
><strong>_

It was a beautiful autumn morning. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky, an endless blue blanket covered the heavens crowned by a bright yellow sun that kindly shared its warmth with those who dared to go out and enjoy the chilly wind and go to the park.

There were some fraternity boys playing football, showing their competitive side while they threw the ball at each other and as they flirted with the girls who were just a few feet away riding their bikes and muttering at each other, their gazes firmly set on the boys' firm muscles hidden by their sports clothing.

There were some sports aficionados jogging in the designated paths, each in their own rhythm, some nodding to each other as their paths might have crossed before.

And there were the dog owners.

There were those who took their pooches for a walk.

And those whose pooches took them for a run.

The doggie park was in a separated area, properly fenced to keep the canines into an enclosed space and not endanger those who might get too friendly with an unknown dog without the presence of its owner and, as result, be bitten or lose a limb.

That was a rare situation but it could happen, so precautions were taken.

Barking was heard along with the shouted orders of this or that dog owner, asking to fetch a ball or a toy thrown into the air.

It was on such fine morning that one of those dogs took his owner for a run. His excited barking rang through the air, as his owner ran in a desperate attempt to keep up with his four legged friend.

Despite having lost several pounds and now being on top of his shape, Special Agent Timothy McGee still had a hard time to keep up with the bundle of energy is his dog was. Regardless of the fact he wasn't a puppy anymore – in fact, Jethro the dog was a retired drug dog – he still had stamina of youth, barking excitedly at raccoons, butterflies or birds, jumping excitedly at cats or just dragging his owner by the leash through the park.

"Jethro, for christ's sake stop!" McGee shouted, pulling the leash as his lungs started to burn thanks to the spontaneous marathon Jethro forced him to run. He stopped on shaking legs, his muscles cramping so much from the effort to keep up that he had to support his hands on his knees, taking a few minutes to normalize his breathing and slow down his thundering heart.

Meanwhile, Jethro just danced excitedly at his feet, tangling the leash around his owner's legs. McGee stepped out of the trap, taking a long leg out of the mess and smiled at the simple enthusiasm the dog showed at him. His long tongue hung out of his mouth, brown eyes shining mischievously as if daring McGee to keep up with him.

"You are… are… a bad dog." McGee said between deep breaths, hearing his heart still loudly ringing on his ears.

He looked to the side where the dog area was, gesturing at it with his head. "Wanna burn some energy with your friends, buddy? I think I need a break."

Jethro whined, lifting a paw as if to shake hands.

"Okay, we can keep playing a little bit. But we have to leave before three, okay?"

Jethro barked, his tail wagging excitedly at the perspective of more playtime.

McGee smiled and shook his head at the dog. Long gone was the mistrust he had towards the animal. They had a rough start, with Jethro attacking him ia n drugged state of mind, but he was an affectionate pet. Impossible to find a better companion, especially as his hours were extremely irregular and his love life was closer to that of a monk.

Shaking his head at the unwelcomed wave of self-pity that filled his heart, McGee petted the head of the dog affectionately, receiving excited licks in return. He didn't think it was odd that he talked to Jethro. A lot of people did the same thing with their pets. He probably did that just to have the satisfaction to have someone totally focused on him, without passing judgment, with no mocking or McNicknames being thrown at him.

He had no illusion that the dog understood a word he said to him, but he was content to simply have someone to talk to.

He smiled as he looked for something on his small sports backpack, "I guess we could play a little bit more. What do you think we play with… a Frisbee?" He showed a bright red Frisbee he had just dug out.

The answer he received was a mad wiggling tail and a sloppy doggy smile.


	3. Dog Days

_**Chapter 3: Dog Days**_

_**"Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring-it was peace." - Milan Kundera**_

They kept playing with the Frisbee the rest of the morning. McGee would throw the disk and Jethro would run like a gazelle, jumping into the air and literally flying to catch it.

The dog's excited barking was topped only by the laughter of the man, who took his cell phone out and took several pictures of the German shepherd mid flight that would make great posters for animal lovers.

Around noon then they were both exhausted so both man and dog sat down under a tree and rested against its bark. McGee leaned his back against the trunk with his backpack by his side, while Jethro circled around the same spot a few times and finally sat beside him, resting his head on McGee's leg. Instinctively knowing what the dog wanted, McGee started scratching the dog between the ears, receiving grateful whimpers in return.

"You hungry, Jehtro?"

The dog sat down and licked its chops. McGee smiled and started to rummage through his backpack, unveiling what they had for dinner.

"I have a couple of your favorites here. We have tuna and peanut butter sandwiches and prime cuts in gravy Alpo. What will it be?"

The dog whimpered excitedly, before leaning towards McGee's hand and touching the Alpo can with its nose. The man smiled and took a dog plate from his backpack, using a can opener on the can. "Alpo it is."

Once served, he put the plate down and watched as the dog started to play with the food with its nose, moving the lumps of beef from one side to the other before finally starting to pick them up. Jethro was particular like that; he never ate before checking the food first.

Pouring some water in another dog plate, he observed as the dog had his food before washing his own hands with bottled water, finally unwrapping one of the tuna sandwiches and starting to eat.

It was a fine day indeed.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

At the agreed time they slowly jogged towards the car, parked in a small cull de sac near Dale Drive. The exercise had been invigorating, leaving both dog and man energized for a new week about to start. McGee opened the trunk of his car, throwing his backpack inside and grabbing a towel to dry the sweat that had accumulated on his brow and neck.

Jethro was placidly sitting at his feet, yawning here and then to show how exhausted he was. The leash was on the ground, as McGee was going to take it off the dog before guiding him inside the car.

The man threw the towel into the trunk at the exact moment that the wind changed direction, starting to blow from the south and making the trees lean under its pressure. Jethro immediately became alert sniffing the air; his sharp nose caught a scent, inciting an instinct that, despite years of being domesticated, still lay dormant in the dog's DNA.

McGee slammed the trunk shut, frowning at the strange attitude of the dog, sniffing the air and with the fur on his scruff raised, as if sensing danger of some kind.

"What's wrong, fur face?"

As if McGee's words had broken his paralysis, Jehtro started to run to south of their position, towards the scent he had identified. Taken by surprise and unable to catch Jethro's leash, all McGee could do was run after the dog, shouting at him to stop.

But instinct overruled the careful devotion between man and beast, so instead of obeying his master's orders, Jehtro sped up down small Sligo Creek trail, jumping over broken branches and fallen leaves, desperate to reach its destination. All McGee could do was, once again, try to keep up with the four legged friend.

They ran over the small pathway over Sligo Creek, reaching Sligo Creek Parkway. McGee looked desperate as Jethro ran between the coming and going cars, crossing the road without even pausing to check the incoming traffic. He waited for the cars to pass, before sprinting into a run trying to keep his eyes on the black and gold fur comet a few blocks ahead, the red leash flying like a flag over his shoulder.

Finally Jethro made a sharp turn to the left, entering a small alley that McGee would have run right by before noticing it. Abruptly breaking his mad run, the man took deep breaths as he felt a deep pain blossoming on his left side, result of the unexpected sprint after his pet.

"Jethro! You're so grounded, boy!" He shouted into the alley, slowly walking into it as his legs again felt on fire thanks to the forced exercise. "You will stay on the leash for the rest of the week. And no more Alpo for you." He looked around and noticed the dirty floor and the trash bins of the neighboring houses one next to the other. He heard the well known whimpering of his dog and advanced with surer steps, eager to leave that place.

"Come on Jethro, I have to get my laundry and …"

Whatever he was going to say stopped at his lips as he took in the scene before himself. Jethro stood before another dog, a couple of feet between both animals, his head low and submissive, whimpering softly at it. He didn't dare get closer as the dog seemed to be rabid, growling and snarling at Jethro, but it didn't move from its position under a dirty cardboard. McGee took a step closer and the dog turned to him and snarled, its teeth showing, proving that it would do anything to protect itself.

"Hey, no problem, boy. We're leaving." McGee approached Jethro, who took a step closer to the dog just to jump back when it barked and tried to stand up, before falling back down and whimpering in pain.

"Hey, you're hurt." McGee said, noticing the dog's bloodied fur and the front leg in a strange angle, as if the bone had broken a little bit above the paw. "Oh, poor thing."

As if understanding his words, the dog stopped growling and whimpered instead, showing all its vulnerability to him. McGee finally got close enough to both dogs so he could take Jethro's leash from the floor, wrapping it firmly around his wrist to avoid the possibility of another sprint marathon.

"What do we have here?"

The dog growled at him again, baring its teeth threateningly but it made no move from its spot. Jethro whined and tried again to approach the dog that barked at him and made him take a step back. But Jethro insisted, lowering on its front paws and looking at the other dog sadly, raising its eyebrows and whimpering lightly.

"I don't think it wants our help Jethro." McGee said, studying the dog's dirtied fur and identifying dried blood on it. He noticed that the dog's respiration was getting faster, its black and golden fur splattered with blood here and there.. "But…"

The dog whimpered again. McGee noticed something on its skin that made him curse under his breath.

"You're not a _he_. You're a _she_."

The bitch dog laid its head on the cement and whined, a tremor visibly running through its body. In this position McGee could clearly see the dilated lower part of the bitch, and for a brief glimpse he could see the movement of the puppies under the skin.

"Oh gosh, you're pregnant."

The dog lifted its head, looked at him and blew air through its lips as if saying "_No shit, Sherlock." _

"I can't leave you here like this." McGee muttered, immediately looking around the filthy alley and making up his mind. "Wait here, I'll get the car and some blankets." He stood up and grabbed Jehtro's leash, trying to lead him out of the alley but to no avail. The dog wouldn't budge from his place.

"Come on, Jehtro, I can't leave you here by yourself."

Jethro threw him an aggravated look and whimpered, before trying to pull the leash out of McGee's hand. After a second of indecision, McGee let it go and couldn't hold back a small chuckle as Jethro approached the bitch again. This time even more carefully, keeping his head low and ears down, he gently nudged her head. After a sigh, the bitch laid back and stopped growling at him. With her acquiescence, Jethro started licking her cuts, gently lapping the blood away, giving her a tongue bath that made her close her eyes and sigh loudly.

McGee watched the interaction with a smile as Jethro, in a very protective way, circled the female and laid closely to her, trying to share his body heat, gently settling his head over her neck, laying his claim on her, making it clear that he would protect her from any danger that might come their way.

"I think I get what you want, buddy."

Jethro's answer was raised eyebrows, as if asking _'What are you waiting for? Go get the car!' _

McGee chuckled at the scene, shaking his head at the situation, turned around and ran out of the alley, eager to get to the car.

Meanwhile, Freckles moved her head a little, forcing Jethro to move so they could stare at each other. She studied him as he stared unblinkingly at her, his gaze never wavering from hers. She cocked her head to the side and Jethro gently rubbed his cold nose on her face, his rough tongue carefully cleaning her in a very instinctive gesture of gentleness.

Freckles whimpered and lowered her head, obeying the instinctive directive written in her DNA and stretched her neck, making herself vulnerable to the other dog. Following the same instinct, Jethro gently rubbed his nose on her neck, lapping the matted fur and gently nipping here and there, never breaking the skin but just showing that, if given the chance, he could attack her and kill her, but he chose not to. Finally he resumed his position, spooning her body with his, his head lying on her shoulder blades, silently promising to protect the female and her unborn litter with his life if necessary as he waited for his human to come back.


	4. Going to the Vet

_**Chapter 4: Going to the Vet**_

_**We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment. ~George Eliot**_

The drive to the vet was uneventful with McGee rearranging his mirror to look at his patient lying on a carefully arranged blanket on the backseat of his car. The pregnant dam whined whenever he took a sharp curve or hit a bump on the road, so he drove extra carefully to avoid any sudden movement.

Jethro, bless his heart, was sitting on the floor of the car, his head resting on the backseat and sometimes he would bump his cold nose on the dam's distended belly, as if he was just checking if the puppies were still secure in there.

McGee sighed with relief when the sign of Jethro's vet appeared two blocks down. He stopped the car in the designated parking spot for emergencies and threw the car into park, leaving it in a hurry to go around to the backseat door. Opening it, he gestured to Jethro to get out so he could get their precious cargo inside, being obeyed immediately by the Alsatian. Careful to keep the blanked wrapped around the body of the mutt, he grunted as he took the dam in his arm and pushed the car door closed with his butt, rushing to the open door of the 24/7 vet closely followed by Jethro, whose eyes were firmly set on the wrapped bundle.

Dancing excitedly around McGee's legs, Jehtro whined as McGee spoke to the receptionist, explaining the situation. She then gestured to McGee, guiding him down a corridor until they reached a consult room with a steel table right in the middle of it. McGee gently laid the dam on it, careful of the shattered leg and the ongoing whimpers of pain she was letting out.

"Come on, young lady. You've been very brave until now. The doc will check you out and you will be all new, okay?" He said as he ran fingers through the scruff of her neck, seeing that it had a calming effect on her. He went around the bed and looked into her eyes, finding beautiful freckled eyes staring at him intently, a long tongue lolling out as she breathed with an open mouth. Studying her attentively, he could identify both Labrador and German shepherd characteristics on her build and coloring, but despite not being a pure breed she was indeed a beautiful animal.

And very well tended, with shining fur and clean nails, recently trimmed. This was no street animal, as the obvious signs of grooming indicated that someone somewhere had lost their beloved pet. McGee frowned as he imagined a small little girl or boy crying on her bed, feeling heartbroken for the loss of his/her gorgeous dog.

"Someone really loved you, didn't they?" He muttered, running a hand through her neck until he found the collar where a paw shaped tag hung, identifying the dog and its owner.

"So…" He read the inscription. "Freckles, I'll call your owner and let her know you will be okay. She must be worried sick about you and your puppies. I know I would."

Freckles lifted her head, looking at him with sad eyes, trying to transmit her despair but unable to communicate with the gentle human who had saved her.

"Don't worry, you will be home in no time." He took the phone from his pocket, dialing the number written on the tag. He waited patiently as it rung several times, until it came on the voice mail.

"_You've called Janice Winters, I can't speak right now. Please leave a message after the tone. BEEEEEP."_

McGee stood up and took a few steps away, immediately being replaced by Jethro who lifted his frontal legs and supported them on the table, gently licking Freckles face as if to say all would be good. McGee smiled at the demonstration of tenderness and left a short message for Freckles' owner.

"_Ms. Winters, my name is Timothy McGee. You don't know me but I have your Freckles with me. She is a little bit beaten up but she will be okay. Please contact me on 555-4787 so I can give you directions on how to meet me."_

Just as he finished the message a short pixie looking redhead in a white lab coat entered the room, ah'ing as she saw the dog on the examination table.

"Oh dear, what have they done to you, my gorgeous?" The woman ran gentle hands through the fur, seeing several glass cuts and the obvious broken paw carefully wrapped in an improvised splint. Her attention was totally focused on the dog, giving McGee time to look at her without fear of being caught.

Whistling with appreciation in his mind at the curves hidden by the lab coat, he admired the soft curly hair of the color of autumn leaves tied in a lazy braid, the sharp curve of her nose topped with transparent acrylic glasses. Reddish brown eyebrows topped gentle gray bluish eyes, while long delicate fingers ran sensuously over the dog fur gently checking for more broken bones besides the leg.

McGee was so lost in a daydream where she was petting him with the same care and affection that he missed it when she turned to him and asked a question. She smiled and repeated it again, startling him out of it.

"What?"

"I've asked you if you had any idea what happened to her?"

"Oh…" Blushing, he took a step closer, pointing to Freckles. "Not really, I was just walking my dog when I found her like that." McGee pointed to Jethro, who was sitting on the floor looking anxiously between the Vet and the dog on the table. "Actually, he is the one who found her. We were two blocks away and he still sensed her, taking off and making me run after him. When I found him he was guarding her, whining as if feeling her pain."

The vet looked at Jethro and smiled, offering a hand to be sniffed. Once the dog had felt her scent, she gently patted his head and congratulated him. "Good boy." To McGee, she said. "He was just acting on instinct. In canine species, unlike the human, the instinct to protect the mother of young is intrinsic. It comes back from the time that dogs still hunted as a pack and the most vulnerable ones were the pregnant bitches or their litters. It was a common effort of the whole pack to protect the litter, guaranteeing this way the future of the pack."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I know. Pretty cool, uhm?" She smiled brightly, her eyes shining and showing cute dimples on her cheeks. McGee stared hypnotized. She continued, blushing lightly under his gaze and turning her eyes to the dog under her care. "While there are men who treat the mother of their unborn children like trash, in the canine species, regardless of whom the bitch belongs to, a male will always protect the unborn litter. The more I know men, the more I appreciate dogs." She donned gloves and started the hard task of plucking the shards of glass with tweezers, depositing them in a small stainless steel cup.

Each shard made a clunk as it fell, making McGee shiver as he imagined the pain the dog had been through since it got hurt.

"Excuse me, not that I think you don't know what you're doing but shouldn't you anesthetize the dog before doing that? Where's Dr. Crane?"

She glanced up at him, before going back to her work, stretching the fur to get some shards hidden behind the folds of skin. "Not really. I want to do a full blood work on her before giving her any medicine. I can't take the risk of harming the puppies in case she's allergic to one of the usual antibiotics. And…" She smiled at him, her eyes dancing behind her glasses, "I may look young, but I'm a fully trained veterinarian. Dr. Crane went to a symposium in Richmond. He will be back by the end of the week. I've been handling his practice while he's away."

"Oh, sorry. I meant no disrespect, Ms..."

"Dr. Liebfield. Grace Liebfield. But call me just Grace."

"Oh. Grace, I just … I mean…"

"I know. You were just worried about the lady here." She patted the dog with a kind hand, receiving a lick on her hand. "You're very beautiful, aren't you? Gorgeous eyes you have, my lady."

"Freckles."

"Uhm?"

McGee rolled on the balls of his feet, stuffing his fisted hands in the pockets of his pants, "Freckles. Her name is Freckles. It's on her dog tag."

"Oh." She checked it, smiling at the name on it. "Suits you well." She took two other shards and deemed it finished, running her hand through the fur trying to find any other shard she might have missed. "I might have to keep her overnight, as the blood exams will be done only tomorrow morning. I can set the paw and prescribe some antibiotics once I have decided on the right spectrum, but I think she could be discharged tomorrow. Are you leaving her here until someone comes to claim her or are you keeping her?" The vet looked at him, seeing his struggle to decide.

"I don't know. I work irregular hours and…" He was interrupted by Jethro, who started to dance excitedly at his feet, tugging at his leash. Finally he leaped at the table, resting his front paws on it and gently licking Freckles fur, a clear show of sincere affection. "Jethro, please." McGee tugged at the leash but Jethro just turned his head, looking at McGee with soulful eyes whimpering softly, his request quite clear.

"I think Jethro has already decided what he wants." The vet smiled, as McGee chuckled lightly as he caved in, nodding to Jethro. As if sensing his victory, Jethro barked excitedly and ran to McGee, dancing around his feet and receiving affectionate pats on his head in return. McGee leaned down to scratch him, receiving licks and hits of an excited tail on his legs.

"I think it was love at first sight." He murmured. When he lifted his head, he found himself face to face with the brilliant dimpled smile of the vet, who was looking at him with shining eyes.

"I think it was." She murmured without breaking eye contact.


	5. The beginning

_**Chapter 05: The beginning**_

_**A dog is not "almost human" and I know of no greater insult to the canine race than to describe it as such. ~John Holmes**_

It all started with The Dog.

As science progressed with leaps and bounds, men felt that he had the right of testing animals in favor of his own interests. For testing drugs, cosmetics, weapons, animals were born and bred in laboratories with the specific purpose of being used as test subjects.

Recombinant DNA became a basic subject in the labs around the country and tests after tests were performed to fix what God had already created perfect.

There were also those programs which received government funding to create the perfect weapon, with the best characteristics of the race and still act like a normal pet.

And thus The Dog was created.

But The Dog wasn't the only secret that came out from within the walls of Banodyne Laboratories. A more insidious and deadly creature also made by the hands of man was created by this project.

A beast with the strength of many chimps, teeth like knives and intelligence to surpass any living being, the creature was given an unstoppable desire to kill.

Unfortunately, they also gave it self-awareness, so in the end it knew it was an abomination and it deeply hated its creators and itself.

It was named the Outsider, as it simply did not belong anywhere in nature.

And, beyond its hatred towards itself and its creators, it hated the most the Dog, as it was everything the Outsider wasn't. The Dog was perfection, an improvement over God's own original plan. The Outsider was just what it was, an abomination.

So when the Lab was destroyed and both creatures fled, it unleashed a chain of events that none of the scientists initially involved could have predicted. If they had, they would have stopped before so many lives were taken by the hands of the Outsider and those hunting him. Or maybe before their own government decided that their contribution to their country was over and set a heartless killer on their path.

None of those who participated in the creation of the abomination survived.

But in his desperate escape the Dog met a man.

And the man took the Dog into his home, his family and his heart, swearing to protect the Dog from any danger that might come his way.

And he kept his promise until today.


	6. 25 years later

_**Chapter : 25 years later**_

_**"A house without either a cat or a dog is the house of a scoundrel." - Portuguese Proverb**_

_**Sunday morning  
>Dulles International Airport<strong>_

The sharp sound of the engine turbines blasting air irritated Lemuel Jackson's ears as he disembarked in Dulles. He looked around and walked in brisk steps towards the luggage area, eager to free his friend of the quarantine area.

After years working for the government, Lemuel finally requested retirement after the fatidic case of the Banodyne fiasco. The hunt after the Outsider resulted in a bloodbath that was a nightmare to cover up, trying to hide from the press the mess the good old science boys had made while trying to play God.

But one good thing came out of that mess.

The Dog found a family for himself. It almost cost everyone's their lives, but they would have fought until their last breath if that was necessary to protect it.

Later on they lied when confronted by Lemuel. They said that the Dog had been killed by the Outsider. Yet Lemuel had seen right through their load of bullshit and chose not to denounce them, passing up the lie to his bosses who swallowed it as a golden pill.

After that, he immediately requested his retirement and once granted, he just dropped by to swear to the Hyatt family that their secret was safe with him.

In exchange of that promise, he was given a wiggling warm puppy with caramel eyes and a cold nose crowned with extremely intelligent eyes just two years later after that fatidic coffee break at the Hyatt's residence.

Now, twenty five years after the explosion of Banodyne and the escape of its test subjects, their biggest nightmare had come to pass.

One of their dams was lost, pregnant with a litter of extremely bright and intelligent puppies.

In the effort of protecting their secret, they had diluted the bloodline. After the first two generations of pure breds, they started breeding the Golden Retrievers with other breeds, trying to ensure that no one could trace it back to the original Retriever that had escaped Banodyne.

As intelligence apparently was a dominant trait, regardless of the fact that one of the parents might be a 'normal' dog, the puppies were always a chip of the old block. They had success mixing the original litter with Labradors, Irish Setters and Alaskan Malamutes. Later on they bred the subsequent generation with German Shepherds, Huskies and even Dalmatians.

Hyatt covered their activities creating an animal shelter in his propriety, where he organized a kennel for the purebreds and a safe heaven for the mix breeds. Whenever a new litter was conceived, those few who were into the secret helped to find people specially screened to provide a home for each puppy.

And so the Watcher program began.

But there were a few setbacks.

The secret had to be protected at all costs, yet the number of the people aware of it grew from half a dozen to a couple of hundreds in twenty five years. From veterinarians and conspiracy freaks up to computer hackers, all those once involved in protecting the secret were given the chance of participating in it.

Yet Dr. Janice Winters' death opened a whole new can of worms. She had been a veterinarian working in the Metro area who had stumbled into the secret a few years back once she had to perform an emergency surgery in one Husky. However she had been unaware then that said dog was a direct descendent of the original Dog.

Once she found out, she was so enchanted with the idea that she asked how she could help the family. Therefore, two years later, she was chosen to offer shelter to a small Labrador and German shepherd mutt named Freckles. It was love at first sight and when the time was right, Janice consulted the Hyatt's family if they were okay at the idea of breeding Freckles. Choosing was quite difficult, and in the end she chose to use her veterinarian contacts to arrange a date for Freckles with a pure bred champion German shepherd.

Litter conceived, she had been counting the days until she would have those cute wiggling puppies in her arms so she could squeeze and spread the love.

But she was never meant to see the puppies as her life ended on a crossroad in Sligo Creek.

Thinking about all that happened during these last twenty five years, Lemuel nodded to the airport security and showed the proper documents, looking at the several pet boxes with barking dogs waiting for their owners. He smiled as he noticed that his own friend was lying calmly inside his box, his big head over his huge paws, placidly waiting for the actions of the humans around him.

"The documents are okay, sir. I'll bring him to you."

"No need, I'll take care of it." Lemuel walked towards the pet box, kneeling before it and touching its door. "Hey buddy, time to work."

A loud bark was his only answer.

He opened the crate and a huge chocolate Labrador stepped out, carefully stretching its hind muscles before standing up straight, glancing up at Lemuel waiting for its next orders. Lemuel smiled and rubbed his hand between the dog's ears, receiving a grateful wag of the tail.

"Let's go find Freckles, boy."

They left the airport, eager to fulfill their mission.


	7. Dog talk

_**Chapter 7: Dog talk  
><strong>_

_**No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as the dog does. ~Christopher Morley**_

McGee drove to his apartment in a daze back after a whole afternoon at the vet. He even ignored Jethro's barking insistently in his ear. He dumped the backpack with the leftovers of their day in the park on the kitchen counter and dragged his sorry ass to his bathroom.

He shed his clothing that smelled of dog and blood onto the floor, turning on the water. He stepped under the spray, eager to wash away the grime of the day. He felt deeply tired, but there still was a small sense of satisfaction boiling in the pit of his stomach that made a silly smile appear on his face.

He closed his eyes as he thought about the beautiful Grace, her dimples and her gray bluish eyes. How she gently touched the fur of the wounded dog at the same time that she carefully explained what she was doing, easing his mind along the procedure. He insisted to settle the bill of the vet, but Grace insisted that she was working pro bono on Freckles' case. He agreed despite his reservations.

His mind wandered to those delicate fingers, unadorned of rings, delicate wrists at the end of pale arms and…

"_Oh… down boy."_

He blinked under the water as he felt a familiar reaction on his body, showing that he was still alive despite his half joking promise/threat of becoming a monk.

Maybe there is someone out there for him.

The thought brought a grin to his lips, making him hurry in his shower, eager to check the card Grace had given him, just in case he became worried about Freckles and decided to call her to come check on the dog. She had even written her cell phone on the back of the card.

She told him he could call her anytime.

Maybe he would.

He left the shower and wrapped himself on a towel, joyfully whistling a tune he had heard somewhere in the past. As he came to his living room, he smiled at the scene he found: Jethro had grabbed one of his toys, a small puppy shaped one and was licking it carefully as a new dad would wash a newborn.

He sat down on the computer chair in front of the dog, watching the strange behavior of his dog, aware that something had changed for his companion. A small switch had been flicked that turned the happy playing puppy from that morning into the worried father he had before himself.

"She really rocked your world, uhm, Jethro?"

Jethro stopped the tongue bath and looked up at McGee, whimpering softly and hugging the toy with its front paws.

McGee chuckled and left the chair, sitting on the floor beside the dog. As soon as he was given the chance, Jethro crawled a few inches and rested its head on McGee's leg, the puppy toy still firmly between his front paws.

"I think it's instinctive, isn't it? Either in dogs or men, sometimes you just know she's the one. You look at her and say, yep, that's the lady who will have my puppies, right? And your life is never the same again, because you become a mess. You can't eat; you can't sleep. All you can do is think of her and … puppies. And puppy making. And puppy practicing. After all, perfection comes only with practice. And if you want beautiful puppies, you need beautiful a beautiful lady… with gorgeous gray blue eyes and dimples and … all you can think is… puppies."

He looked down and found Jethro staring at him with raised eyebrows.

"You think that I completely lost it, don't you?"

Jethro yawned.

"Yep. I lost it." He chuckled. "And I'm enjoying every single minute of it."


	8. Grace visits the bullpen

**_Chapter 8 : Grace visits the bullpen_**

**_"Wanna know who really loves you no strings attached? Lock your dog and your wife inside the trunk of your car. In the sun. For the whole day. The one who jumps out of the trunk all happy to see you again when you open it at night really loves you." – One of my cousins about love, life and everything in between._**

Monday came and went with the usual rush of cold cases, requests from cyber crimes and searches on consults. They had not been called for a new case, so they stayed filling out paperwork that had been piling on their desks for god knows how many weeks.

McGee was having an extraordinarily good day. Not even the rubber bands thrown in his direction by DiNozzo and his outrageous McNicknames could spoil. His constant checking of his watch also didn't pass unnoticed by his colleagues, who poked at him throughout the day asking if he had a hot date later.

He smiled enigmatically and refused to answer.

Close to five pm, his cell phone rang with a number McGee didn't recognize. He looked at it confused before answering.

"Special Agent McGee." He said distractedly as he checked the results on his screen just to jump when he heard a familiar voice on the other side of the line.

"Hello, Mr. McGee. This is Grace, Freckles' vet." He blinked surprised, immediately sitting straighter on his chair.

"Oh you…ahh …hi."

"Hi. Freckles is ready to leave. Are you coming over or do you prefer that I drop her off? I could take her where you are… if you wish so."

"Oh… I see." He looked up, finding Gibbs' gaze firmly set on him. He didn't bother to look at Ziva or Tony as he knew that both were trying to eavesdrop on him. "Just wait a second."

He covered the phone with one of his hands, "Boss, my vet is asking if she can drop my … well, my new dog here. It will be only for a few minutes until I finish my reports and leave with her. Is it okay with you?"

"New dog? What happened to the old one?" Ziva asked, looking confused at him.

"Yeah, have you deserted Jethro, McDoggie? Abby will be mad at you." Tony shook his head at his probie, his disapproval obvious in his tone of voice.

"No, Tony. I haven't deserted Jethro. He's the one who actually found Freckles." McGee turned to Gibbs, explaining. "I rescued a female dog yesterday and she stayed the day at the vet. I'll keep her until I return her to her owner."

Gibbs seemed to consider the subject for a second. "Is this a temporary thing?"

"Yes, Boss. Just until I hear from her owner. I've already left her a voice message when I rescued Freckles."

Gibbs shrugged, dismissing the subject as unimportant and diving in his reports again. "As long as she is housebroken, I'm fine with it."

McGee gave him a blinding smile before going back to his phone call, "Hi Grace. Please can you bring Freckles to my office? My address is… oh… you know where I work? Oh, yes, it's on Jethro's file. Of course. When do you arrive? Oh… you're already at the gates. Wow that's … wow… yeah… I'll ring them letting you come in. Thanks."

He gently disconnected, staring at the phone in his hand with a love struck expression on his face. Tony grinned at the opportunity to pester his Probie, gleefully looking at Ziva and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

"So… Grace, uhm?" He sat at McGee's desk, a lascive smile on his face.

"Uhm?" McGee kept staring at the phone, lost in the memory of the vet's face.

"Is she hot?"

"What?" McGee's head slingshot up, staring at Tony with horror. "Tony… she's my vet! I mean…"

"Your vet, uhm? Had no idea that's what people are calling that now. Kinky you are my Probie."

McGee glared at Tony, feeling a deep blush on his face as his good humor evaporated like magic. "She's Jethro's and Freckles' vet. And there's absolutely nothing going on between us. So can it, okay?" He took the phone and rang the reception desk informing the staff of his incoming visitors.

He looked aggravated at Tony and went back to his searches, but his concentration was shot as he felt butterflies taking flight inside his stomach and his hands started to sweat. Finally the elevator pinged and the doors opened, bringing all eyes to the glorious vision of autumn that entered the bullpen.

In McGee's humble opinion, Grace was looking even more beautiful than the previous day. Her glorious red hair was flowing untamed over her shoulders, which were naked as her top strategically hugged her chest and flowed down in a swirl of brown and maroon colors. Dark Lycra pants hugged her tighs in strategic places going down firm legs that ended on a pair of flowery sandals with impossibly high heels, showing toenails painted in dark blood red.

_Oh man, oh man, oh man…_

"Timothy!" She smiled and showed him her dimples.

The butterflies in his stomach started a circular dance playing drums and singing tribal songs.

She guided Freckles on a bright red leash, similar to the one he had for Jethro. The dog was looking one hundred percent better than the previous day, but she was still limping. The broken paw was carefully wrapped in a sling. The dog also had that stupid plastic cone to stop her of chewing the bandages. With a bath and a good scrubbing, one could see the obvious signs of a good Labrador, colored on the same pattern of a German shepherd.

"Dr. Crane had written in his files that you were a busy person so I thought I'd better bring Freckles here instead of making you drive all the way to the vet's office."

"Wow, thanks. You shouldn't have bothered." He took the leash from Grace's hand, feeling her lingering her fingers on his skin for a second too long before taking a step back. Both flushed brightly, looking shyly at each other.

"So… What's the prognosis, Doc?"

"I've administered the antibiotics and cleaned all cuts, but I haven't bandaged the glass ones as they were too many, too small and she would end up looking like a chessboard if I were to shave all that glorious fur only on the places where she had cut herself. I've checked the puppies and I'm glad to say that they are fine, almost full term and I hope you have a big dog bed on your apartment because you will need it."

McGee slowly wrapped the leash around his wrist, but was glad to see that Freckles, unlike Jethro, sat calmly at his feet looking at him and then at Grace, as if she was following the conversation. "Why?"

"Well…" She smiled as she looked at the dog sitting at their feet, staring at them with intelligent caramel freckled eyes. "I haven't run a full DNA but she's a lovely mutt. She has the build of a Labrador but the coloring of a German shepherd. The head bones and jaw are those of a Labrador, thicker here and here but her legs are definitely Alsatian." She looked up at him, a chagrined smirk on her lips. "Both breeds are well known for big litters and she's not an exception of the rule. On the ultrasound I've counted nine puppies, but I might have missed one or another."

"Nine?" McGee was flabbergasted, "What will I do with nine puppies?"

"Well…" She shrugged, "As she's not a pure breed, you can't sell them like that. But there are several rescue shelters that help you find people who are willing to adopt them as pets. But I really recommend you to castrate her or Jethro if you wish to avoid more litters."

"Castrate Jethro? Why?"

She laughed, her mirth barely contained. "Oh, please Timothy, you do know your birds and the bees, right?" He blushed as she continued. "He's a male already demonstrating protective and possessive traits towards her. And despite all your best intentions, the female dog heat is cyclical. It's a matter of simple biology and if not corrected soon you will have another litter – of nine or more puppies – in six months time."

"Okay, I'll take that into consideration." He frowned at the idea, receiving a knowing grin from Grace.

"It's alright. All males frown at the idea of having their balls cut off, regardless of the species."

He glared at her instinctively protecting his family jewels, eliciting laughter from the beautiful vet.

"That's not funny!"

"Sorry, vet's dark humor. Can't help it." She knelt on the floor, gesturing to the dog who had been watching the conversation with curious eyes. "Freckles, come here."

The dog went limping to Grace's side, who hugged the dog's shoulders and scratched her head affectionately, receiving licks on her face despite the plastic cone around its neck.

"Don't let that big bad agent bulldoze his way over you. He's just a big puppy who needs a strong hand. Show him who's giving orders, okay?"

Freckles barked.

"Good girl. Good girl." Grace stood up and looked at McGee smiling mischievously, "So, I'll be waiting for your call."

"Call?" For some reason, McGee's IQ had dropped from 173 to 60 in seconds and he was able only to repeat what she was saying.

"Yes, when it's time."

"Time for what?"

"For the puppies." She pointed to Freckles, "By my estimate they will come sometime this week. So… keep my number on your speed dial and I'll come to you."

"Oh… that's … nice." Tony slowly approached McGee and hit him on his middle with an elbow, eliciting a grunt out of him and an aggravated glare. Tony gestured mechanically with his head that he should say something else. Finally McGee figured out what Tony was trying to say. "Oh.. . sure… I'll call you. Definitely."

"Any time of day or night."

"Any time of day or night." McGee parroted, his gaze never wavering from hers.

"Great." She smiled brightly at him, "See you later, alligator." She turned around and left, a soft floral perfume lingering in the air at her wake.

"In a while, crocodile." His answer elicited a laugh as she left the room, before finally reaching the elevator and leaving the bullpen.

Both men gawked at her receiving knowing grins from Ziva who just watched as they made complete idiots of themselves. Gibbs, unsure if he should shout at his agents or he should headslap some sense in them, chose to go back to his computer instead. However, his gaze stopped at Freckles for a moment, who was staring at him fascinated. He squinted at the dog that for some reason had a direct stare very uncommon to the canine species. Shrugging at the anomaly, Gibbs went back to his report, but before that…

"Animal Planet is over, back to work!"

McGee and Tony were shaken out of their stupor and went back to their desks. McGee gestured to Freckles, who obediently lay down at his side and closed her eyes, ready for another nap. Tony sat at his desk and looked knowingly at McGee, who was now typing with an idiotic smile on his face.

"Man, I want a vet like that. Does she really make house calls?"

McGee's reaction was automatic. He grabbed a pressure ball he kept on his desk and threw it at Tony, hitting him right on his face.

"HEY!"


	9. Seeking

**_Chapter 9: Seeking _**

**_Scratch a dog and you'll find a permanent job. ~Franklin P. Jones_**

"Any luck?" Travis asked to Lemuel, who was standing in the middle of the living room of the deceased veterinarian looking at the mementos of her life while Dekko, his three year old lab, kept sniffing around the house trying to find a trace of the missing dog.

Lemuel sighed on the phone, making Travis' heart hurt in anticipation. "There are signs of a dog living in the house but she's nowhere to be found. I've spoken to the first emergency responders at the scene and none mentioned a dog either in the car or anywhere nearby. I've requested the forensic photos but they are stonewalling me saying that I have no jurisdiction on them despite being family."

"Can you bypass them?"

"Sure, but I'd rather go first through traditional channels. We don't need more people curious about us, Travis."

"No, we don't. What about Janice?"

"She's being buried tomorrow. I've spoken to the Watchers in the Metro area and April offered to bury Jan in her family plot. Did you know that Jan had a child?"

"What?" Travis couldn't hide his surprise as their previous investigation on the woman had never uncovered that. "She never mentioned children. Where is the kid?"

"Had, Travis. Boy's name was Andrew. He died when he was five, a couple of years ago before we met her. Found the papers in the middle of her documents while packing everything."

"Oh. Poor Janice."

"Yeah."

"What's the next step?"

"I still have some contacts here in DC. And we have a strong Watchers group in the county. I'll put word around that we're looking for a mutt with her characteristics but it's a long shot. As she's not a pure breed it's unlikely that people will pay much attention to missing flyers, and her coloring is quite common. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"Crap."

"Crap indeed, my friend." Lemuel's gaze found something on the mantle that caught his attention, so he decided to cut the call short. " Her phone was destroyed in the crash so that's another dead end. We'll keep posting flyers, maybe we get lucky. Gotta go. I'll keep you posted."

He walked towards the mantle and took a framed picture from it, sighing at the bright smile in Janice's face as she hugged a puppy who had to be Freckles, the dog lovingly licking her cheeks. The image spoke of joy and unrestricted love, a moment of pure happiness that can only happen when you hold a squirming warm puppy in your arms.

"Dekko, let's go." The Lab left the dog bed he had been sniffing, trying to memorize Freckles' scent. "We're going to the accident site and we will expand the search from there."

NCIS NCIS NCIS

McGee entered his home guiding Freckles in his left hand and a bag from a petshop hanging from his right one. Before he even arrived at the door of his apartment he could hear the excited barking from behind it.

He let go of the leash and dropped the bag on the floor, resting his back against the door and took a minute or two to watch the enthusiastic welcome Jethro gave Freckles. Acting like an excited puppy just given a new toy, he practically danced around the pregnant dam, who jogged into the small living room and studied it with curious eyes. Jethro followed her wagging his tail excitedly.

She stopped in the middle of the living room, first glancing at the computer setup before approaching the full wall bookcase he had. She slowly walked in front of it, her head going up and down, her gaze stopping here and there as if she were checking the tittles.

McGee shrugged at that strange behavior, grabbed the bag and emptied it on the kitchen counter. He grinned at Jethro, who jumped up Freckles' back and lightly nipped her neck asking for her attention. She growled at him, telling him to stop and he immediately obeyed putting his tail between his legs. She circled the living room again, sniffing here and there before finally reaching Jethro's dog bed close to the kitchen counter.

McGee pilled away the Alpo cans he had bought and the special nutrition supplements indicated by Grace during their lovely dinner at a café – which accepted dogs – just a couple of blocks away from the Navy Yard. He momentarily gazed at nothing, his mind lost in Grace's memory as he recalled their conversation. They laughed and talked, comparing books and music tastes, their dog owner's tales and how having a pet changed their lives. He sighed lovestruck as he remembered walking her to her car and receiving a light peck on his cheek, before she slowly moved away with twinkling eyes.

He shook his head, trying to force himself to come back to reality, just to look down and find Jethro inviting Freckles to his doggie bed. He smiled as Jethro slowly entered his round fluffy bed in red and black colors. He circled around the same spot a couple of times, showing the space for the female. He then stopped and sat down in the middle of it, waiting for Freckles – who had watched his actions with raised ears and a tilted head – to enter his domain.

Jethro didn't move a muscle as the dam stepped on the fluffy bed, doing the same circling around her own tail thing that Jethro had done. She finally sighed and lain on her side on the right side of it. With the female dog settled, Jethro circled her and lain beside her, his head turned to her, his gaze never leaving her. Finally she crawled closer to him, giving him permission to come closer as well. They both ended side by side, crossed paws with their heads resting on them. Jethro sighed loudly and closed his eyes, being followed soon by Freckles who started to sleep mere seconds after him.

"Love is a beautiful thing, boy." McGee muttered, before putting away the last of the things he bought and walking on his tiptoes to his bedroom, turning off the lights on his way, not willing to wake up the slumbering couple in the corner of his living room.

After getting ready for bed, he put his usual pjs on and lain on the bed. But before settling down for the night, he called again Freckles' owner's number, leaving another message asking her to call him.


	10. It's a date!

**_Chapter 10: It's a date!_**

**_Dogs love their friends and bite their enemies, quite unlike people, who are incapable of pure love and always have to mix love and hate. - Sigmund Freud_**

Monday soon rolled into Tuesday. On Wednesday they had a case that lasted until Thursday. Soon it was Friday and the weekend was just there, right before them and leaving each agent eager for the promise of days away from orange walls and crime scenes, as they were scheduled to be off rotation.

And McGee had a date. Or if he were completely honest with himself, his dog had a date.

Wednesday Grace had called him and told him in a take-no-prisoners tone of voice that she would drop by his home on Friday night to check on Freckles, provided that he had not called her first due to the impending birth of the puppies.

After gulping air for a few seconds, trying to wrap his mind about the idea of having Grace, dimples, gray eyes and red curls, all wrapped up in a female form, standing in the middle of the living room of his tiny apartment, he apparently agreed because he could hear the barely contained glee in her voice as she said goodbye.

"It's a date, then. I'll bring cookies. And cake. Let's not forget cake. See ya!"

"Oh, yes, it's…" He lowered his phone and looked chagrined at it as she had already disconnected to do whatever veterinarians do during their work day. "… date."

He suddenly glanced around, finding a knowing smirk on Ziva's and Tony's faces.

"A date, uhm?" Tony muttered, taking the tip of his tie between his teeth and biting it, making growling noises as if he were a dog fighting for a bone. "Grrrrrrlllll! Timmy's vet is coming to town. Grrrllll!"

"Shut up, Tony." Tim flushed brightly, going back to his research but he knew that he had a stupid little smile on his face during the rest of day.

He created a little ritual with the dogs. Every day he would arrive, go for a short walk with both as Freckles couldn't go far – she got tired easily, panting like a marathon runner – and they would return for a fresh bowl of Alpo cuts and some homemade plate he could scavenge from his fridge. He would then sit at his computer to play online. He was surprised to notice that Freckles was somehow interested in the colors and sounds of the computer, as she would get to his feet whenever he turned the machine on, resting her head on the table and watching his moves and strategy while online. He would sometimes just chat with her, playing a video or trying to write something, a hand distractedly scratching between her ears.

Freckles had an extraordinary attention span. Her gaze, always direct and firm, once set on his face always made him blurt the deepest secrets of his soul, as there was no judgment in those freckled eyes. He surprised himself telling her of his friend Jim, who died on the same case Paula died too. He told her of how he missed Kate and how she had died in his place.

Sometimes he would simply sit down on the floor close to the doggie bed, a cold beer in his hand, and soon two dogs would crawl all over him. Jethro was more enthusiastic, barely able to fit in his own skin thanks to his energy. But Freckles was always more careful. She would look at him first, as if measuring his willingness to be poked. Sensing her indecision, he would gesture at her and she would slowly come closer, before gently spreading herself on the floor, four legs open, her big distended belly resting on the cool floor panels and her head resting on his lap.

And as he scratched between her ears, she would sigh loudly and close her eyes, quickly going to sleep, dreaming of whatever dogs dream when at peace.  
>And every night before going to bed he would call Freckles' owner's number and leave a message.<p>

But Friday was finally here and Grace would come to his house.

Oh crap… He'd forgotten to do the dishes!

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

Leaving the office in a hurry under the continuous teasing comments from Ziva and Tony, McGee rushed into his home after dropping by a small cantina to buy some takeaway. He paid the dogsitter, dropped the food on his kitchen counter and did a quick extreme makeover on his place, cleaning the kitchen, throwing garbage out and giving an once over his cabinets, just to be sure everything was sparkling clean.

Checking his watch, he took his favorite plates and glasses from the cupboard, setting the table before dashing to his bedroom for a quick shower and change of clothes. He did it all in a flash, throwing his clothes in the wash bin and slipping under the shower, eager to wash away the grime of the day. Once done, he went to his bedroom. Looking around as he put on his clothes, he found nothing out of place. The bed was carefully made up in his favorite high count Egyptian thread linens and a faint scent of lavender filled the air thanks to an air freshener thingie that Sarah had insisted that he should use in his bedroom.

For a second or two he allowed a bit of self-doubt to crawl up the pit of his stomach, scratching his airways and almost making sick with worry. What could possibly a girl like that want with a guy like him? She wasn't interested in him. She was merely there doing a professional courtesy home call. She was a dedicated professional and that's why she was coming to his home, on a Friday night, to check on the pregnant dam.

He opened his eyes that he had no idea he had closed as he juggled all those thoughts in his head. He felt his hands shaking and a faint layer of sweat was starting to appear on his skin despite the coolness of the room. He gulped and shook himself out of his dark mood at the exact moment the bell rang.

Wiping his hands on his pants, specially chosen for this moment – the nice ones that really hugged his thighs and bum, and that had earned him several looks from Abby and even from Ziva whenever he wore them at the office – he left the bedroom and went to the living room, shaking his head at the loud barking Jethro was doing at the ringing bell.

He ordered Jethro to his bed and soon he was before the door, taking deep breaths and trying to calm the mad hammering in his chest. He checked through the hole and smiled as he found her standing there, looking down his corridor as nervous as him.

He opened the door and felt a natural smile appearing as she lost the nervousness and smiled brightly at him, her eyes shining with the same mischievousness he had seen before.

Her red curls were in a tamed cascade over her shoulder. Her naked shoulder. Her deep emerald top was one of those that left one pale arm naked and the other covered. Her skirt was red going a little above her knees, leaving creamy white legs going all the way down to red shoes. Stiletto red shoes.

Oh Gosh, he's becoming Palmer.

She looked just like a little pixie elf in Christmas colors caring a huge cake box from a well-known bakery from town. He gulped as his eyes slowly came up, fixing on her skirt again and forcing back a grin as he finally recognized the figures embroidered in black thread in a repeated pattern all over the lower edge of the skirt.

It was a dog running after a cat which in turn was running after a mouse.

He finally his gaze came up again and found her smiling brightly at him, confidence back full force as she knew he liked – oh man, he really liked – her outfit.

"I hope you like cake." Grace said.


	11. Sins of flesh

_**Chapter 11: Sins of flesh**_

_**A man seldom thinks with more earnestness of anything than he does of his dinner.**__** - **__**Samuel Johnson**_

Dinner was uneventful. They sat down and dug into the fettuccine he had bought, laughing here and there about whatever silly subject came to their minds. She regaled him with tales of her own job, mentioning the money eating Sharpei or the psychologically damaged Dobermann, keeping the atmosphere light between dishes and her constant checking of the dogs.

"Were you able to talk to her owner?" Grace said kneeling by Freckles, noticing the quick breathing and panting of the dog.

"No. I've left her messages but she hasn't returned them yet."

"Do you think something might have happened to her?"

"I don't know." McGee frowned as he considered the possibility, cutting a generous portion of cake to offer his guest. With two plates on his hands, plastic forks stuffed on them, he walked towards Grace who was sitting beside the dam gently caressing her scruff. "I should have considered it before but I've never even thought about checking her out."

"Could you do it?"

"Track her? Of course! That's what I do for a living." He said with no small amount of pride, seeing her grinning at him as she took the plate with cake from his hand. Both started eating the rich dark chocolate cake, moaning at its taste. "Oh, but most times I'm looking for criminals and killers which are statistically harder to find as they don't want to be found. Tracking down a dog owner would be a piece of cake." He gestured at the cake earning a grin from Grace at his intended pun.

"Could you do it now?"

"From here?" He muttered between bites, his gaze distractedly following the movements of her tongue licking a bit of frost outside her mouth.

"Yeah."

"Uhm…" McGee glanced to his own pc, considering the idea. "It's no big deal, and I wouldn't technically be doing anything illegal as long as I don't use NCIS resources for that and…" He looked back at Grace, finding her looking at him earnestly. "Ah… okay."

Polishing off the cake, both humans went to the desktop leaving Jethro to hover over Freckles. McGee did his magic with ease under the fascinate eyes of Grace who couldn't for the sake of her unborn children set up a printer, much less type and do the multitude of searches he was doing simultaneously.

"Wow you're good." She muttered, fascinated at the number of screens and multiple searches he seemed to be running at once.

"It's not a big deal. I do this for a living." He said, downplaying her compliment, but she wasn't willing to let it go.

"No, mister. There's good and there's really good at the job. And there's great. And you're not only great in it but you enjoy doing it. So that's even better." She insisted.

He looked up at her, finding her leaning over his shoulder and her face just a few inches away from his.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

His gaze lowered to her lips that she was biting lightly. His pupils dilated as desire became known, both slowly leaning towards each other and…

The computer beeped, both jumping apart surprised at the sound, making both flush as the moment caught up with them. They threw embarrassed glances at each other, both gasping for breath.

"Oh…"

"Ah, so…"

Tim chanced a glance to his computer screen and his mood dropped, his excitement fading before the terrible news on it. "Oh crap."

"What?" Grace ran a hand over her face before leaning over his shoulder again, trying to read the screen but just squinting at it. She had forgone her glasses that evening and the contact lenses irritated her eyes, so she wasn't able to read the fine print.

"Freckle's owner is not coming to pick her up."

"Why not? She gave up on her pregnant pet?"

"No, Grace. Because she can't. She died on the night before I found Freckles." He looked back at the panting dog, finding sad eyes fixed on him. "She's never coming back, is she, Freckles?"

Freckles whimpered and moved on the bed, showing her discomfort loudly. That caught Grace's attention. She fixed her eyes on the dog and studied her for a few seconds before throwing a small grin to McGee.

"You'd better heat up some water and gather as many old towels you have in the house."

"Why?"

Grace molded his face in her hands, lowering her face just a few inches away from his. "Because you're going to become a granddaddy, that's why."


	12. Instinct

_**Chapter 12: Instinct.**_

**_If an animal does something, we call it instinct; if we do the same thing for the same reason, we call it intelligence. - Will Cuppy_**

Animals are so much simpler than man as they are not plagued by the doubts and the intrinsic need to have a purpose which is a characteristic of the human race. They seek only simple biological imperatives: they hunt enough food to survive; they seek shelter for themselves and their young, procreation to ensure the continuity of the species and defense against bigger predators.

Men are the only creatures that kill for pleasure.

They are also the only ones that mate for pleasure too.

Oh… men and dolphins. That's probably why they have that stupid smile on their faces every single day.

Yet still on the same biological imperative, some species have some behaviors that are closer to humans than we could ever comprehend.

So when Freckles went into labor Jethro freaked out.

Big time.

He howled and barked, jumping around the doggie bed before running like a pinball from one side to the other of the room, before coming back panting beside Grace and McGee who had moved the dog bed to the center of the room in order to give enough space so Grace could help the incoming litter. She dug around her bag and came up with gloves, offering a pair for McGee as well before touching the dam's belly and looking at the other side to check the progress.

"Should I worry about what you have in your bag?" McGee muttered as he donned the gloves, watching as she expertly pressed here and there on the dam's belly, counting the puppies through the skin.

"Don't worry, the illegal drugs used to put horses to sleep are kept under lock and key at the office. I only carry enough for dogs… and humans." She said grinning lightly, before going back to her work.

"Vet's humor, hmm?"

"Yeah."

Both flinched as Jethro jumped behind them, howling so loudly that it almost hurt their ears.

"You'd better keep him away."

"You want me to tie him down?"

"No, I think you and Jethro should go to the other room. I will call you when we're done."

"But…" He hugged Jethro's neck, feeling the faint tremors under his touch. "Don't you need help?"

Grace looked up at him, a smart smirk on her lips as she studied his worried face before giving him her tirade. "The females of the species have been doing the same ritual for thousands of years, Timothy. It's in our genes. Don't worry about us. Keep the worried papa away and when the puppies are here I'll call you."

After a worried glance towards Freckles followed by a gentle pat on her head, McGee grabbed Jethro's neck collar and dragged him away from the two females, despite his whimpers and attempts to go back to the dam.

"She needs to do this alone, buddy. We're going to wait here." He dragged the dog to his room and closed the door, resting his back against it. Jethro whined and scratched it, before going back to the howling routine from before.

In the living room, Grace's good humor vanished as she left her worry appear for the first time, running her hand over the distended belly and feeling the timely contractions.

"Now it's only you and me, Freckles. And I'll be by your side every step of the way."

Freckles whimpered and closed her eyes, aware that it was going to be a long night.


	13. Puppy happiness

_**Chapter 13: Puppy happiness  
><strong>_

_**Happiness is a warm puppy – Charles M. Schulz**_

"This isn't how I envisioned spending my Friday night." McGee muttered after four hours waiting for news from his living room.

Jethro, his head on McGee's lap as the man sat on the floor resting his back on his bed, yawned and lain on his side, his four legs spread out before him.

"I know that's this is… the miracle of life and stuff but… crap. It was going so well, you know. She's funny and smart and… she laughs at my jokes and… I could swear I saw the same spark of attraction in her eyes. But I was probably wrong. I mean, I'm so hungry for affection that I keep talking to you, fur face."

Jethro's response was another yawn, before crawling further into McGee's lap and rubbing his head under the man's lax hand, begging to be petted. The human distractedly obliged the request.

"I mean… look at me. I'm single and… most likely to stay that way and now I have two dogs and puppies. Nine puppies or more. I'm pretty pathetic, ain't I?" His gaze went down to Jethro, who was almost purring with happiness with the rough scratching on his scruff. "I wish I had someone to scratch me like that, boy. I so wish that…"

The door opened, revealing a slightly disheveled Grace. Her eyes were tired but there was satisfied glint to them. Her clothing, so carefully groomed during their dinner, was covered with dog fur and some kind of fluids he'd rather not know.

Jethro stood up and nervously approached Grace, who was blocking the door to the living room. McGee followed suite and looked at her, anxiously waiting for news.

"So?"

Grace grinned at him before looking down at Jethro. "Congratulations, Jethro, you're the proud papa of ten puppies."

Jethro barked excitedly as Grace opened the door wider, letting him rush towards the living room like a missile, stopping abruptly beside the doggie bed and whimpering lightly at the scene before him.

McGee slowly approached her, seeing the satisfied glow on her eyes as she observed the dam gently showing her whimpering puppies to a nervous Jethro, who was licking and sniffing each puppy of the litter, trying to memorize their scents.

"Is she okay?" For some reason, McGee thought it was appropriate to whisper as he had no wish to break the magic of the scene. Grace apparently agreed to it, whispering back so low that he could barely hear it.

"Yeah. She's a fighter. We almost lost a puppy but she never gave up."

"That's my girl." McGee said with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Wanna meet them?"

McGee pointed to his own chest, making a surprised face. "Me… oh… can I… Can I touch them? Won't she get mad at me or… I don't know... attack me?"

She had gotten rid of her gloves sometime during the night, so she grabbed his hand with her pale fingers and squeezed, making him look up and find her grey eyes fixed on his.

"You're family. And she needs to get used to your scent on them. Come." As if hypnotized, he docilely followed Grace to the doggie bed, both kneeling before it as Jethro gave them a little bit of space. Grace then guided his hand towards the nuzzle of the dam, who sniffed at it first before gently licking it. Only then Grace guided his hand to one of the squirming bodies on the fluffy surface.

McGee's face exploded in a smile as the blind puppy squealed and squirmed in his big hand, complaining at this strange texture that took him away from the dam's tit. The whimpering of the puppy became louder, just calming down when McGee ran a finger softly over its spine in a soothing rhythm, making it sigh satisfied at the caress.

McGee looked down and counted nine other squirming puppies, each with a varying coloring from caramel, dark honey to black, each as cute as the other.

He was so overwhelmed by their cuteness that he was almost barfing rainbows.

"They are so…"

"_Cute_." She added seeing he was unable to come up with a word to describe the cuteness of the scene.

"Yeah, I know."

Grace grinned at him, seeing him genuinely enjoying that moment with the small fragile life resting on the palm of his hand. She stretched her hand and took one of the puppies, a small dark gold one, and molded her palm around the fragile life just like McGee was doing.

"You know Charles M. Schultz once wrote that happiness is a warm puppy." Grace muttered, using her indicator like a tit and watching the puppy suck it earnestly.

"If he is right, great happiness is a litter of puppies." McGee said.

Both humans looked at each other and exploded in laughter, despite the late hour and the tiredness, feeling for some reason energized by the tiny miracles currently resting, biting and whimpering in their hands.

Jethro grabbed a puppy by its scruff, gently biting it and piling it on top of the other puppies, repeating the procedure until he cleared enough space so he could lie beside Freckles. As soon as he had lain down, the puppies crawled to his side and started to investigate him, looking for the same equipment that Freckles had to feed them. He just sighed and shook them away, ignoring as some crawled to his face and tried to bite his ear.

Freckles kept her glance jumping from the puppies in the human hands to Jethro, just sighing and relaxing when she could recognize no threat to her litter from any of them. She closed her eyes and left the soft noise of her litter float in the air, welcoming sleep as soon as it knocked at her doors.

Noticing Freckles starting to sleep, Grace gestured to McGee that they should leave the new parents alone. They returned the puppies in their hands to the dam and left a soft light shining on the nest, walking a few steps away.

"Thanks." McGee muttered, his gaze finally leaving the puppies and fixing on the woman before himself.

"Why? She's done most of the work."

"Yeah… but…" He blushed, feeling self-conscious again. "I would have been lost if you weren't here."

"Well…" She took a step closer, her eyes never wavering from his. The heightened sexual tension that had been running between them since the beginning of the night returned, making both eager to see who would fold first to it. "I'm always available to … help you find your way."

"Good."

"Yeah." She lowered her gaze to his Adam's apple that was moving nervously up and down. "May I use your shower?"

Her out of the blue question shook him out of his lustful thoughts. "Ah… What? Why?"

She grinned at him, leaning closer until she could whisper against his ear, making him shiver as her breathing tickled the skin of his neck.

"When I finally kiss you I don't want to force you to taste dog hair on my skin."

His eyes became comically wide, his breathing hitched as he moved his head so he could stare into her eyes, finding her dilated pupils fixed on his face, but despite their proximity she made no move to kiss him.

And she was right: the well known scent of dog permeated his and her clothes as a second skin. Seeing his brain finally catch up with her words, she giggled as he grabbed her hand and half-ran half-dragged her to his bedroom, slamming the door shut before they both ran to his own tiny bathroom.


	14. The beast with two backs

_**Chapter 14: The beast with two backs**_

_**Othello, Act I, scene i  
><strong>_

_**BRABANTIO: What profane wretch art thou?**_

**_IAGO: I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter_**  
><strong><em>and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs.<em>**

In humans, attraction is merely a biological byproduct of pheromones.

_Veni, Vidi, Vici. _

I came, I saw, I conquered.

But affection, ah… that's usually the part that breaks our legs. It's remarkably easy to conquer, but to keep what has been conquered in your possession, that's the real gift. And that's exactly where everyone, whether they are princes or paupers, usually fail in the long run.

So, once presented with the chance of a conquest, neither Grace nor Timothy were willing to let it go without a fight. Both jumped under the shower and vigorously scrubbed the scent and the fluids of dog from their skins, grinning here and there at the other aware that whatever happened afterwards would be extraordinary.

Once they were finished McGee, always a gentleman, offered an extra large fluffy towel to Grace, who once wrapped in it seemed to disappear beneath its folds. He grabbed a towel and rubbed vigorously his skin, before wrapping it around his lean hips and standing self-consciously before her, expecting some joke due to his paleness but finding an equally fair skin on Grace.

She grinned as she approached him and, after throwing a glance to his eyes to check if it was okay, laid an open hand over his chest, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart thudding under his ribs.

"Ah… what now?"

"Whatever you feel like it, Timothy. Want to just rest, I'm okay with it. It's really late and we're both tired. We shouldn't … you know… when we're so dead tired."

"Yeah…" He sighed, engulfing her small hand in his, gently intertwining his fingers with hers. "Why me?"

"Uhm?" She was distracted by his finger doing light patterns on her skin, so she had to ask him to repeat the question.

"Why me?" He looked so eager for the answer that she took her time to answer it.

"Tim, I've never met a gentler soul than you." He gasped and held his breath, his eyes fixed on hers as she continued, taking a step closer until he could feel the faint heat coming from her skin and the scent that was her. Just her and a bit of his soap that they had just used to scrub themselves.

"Dogs are great judges of character. They simply know when they can trust or not on a person. I've seen you take into your home a pregnant dam and give her shelter in the time of her greatest need. I've seen how you totally dedicate yourself to your job and still you have time to be kind to your dog. I've never seen you raise your voice or show malice to anyone and … when you held those puppies…" her voice shook a little as she raised a hand to gently touch his cheek. "That was the first time I saw you genuinely happy. There were no shadows lurking in your eyes."

He was momentarily speechless, frozen as she leaned forward standing on her tiptoes and gently touched his lips with her softer ones. The kiss finally heated up as his arms left their passive position and wrapped around her, bringing her flush against his chest with only the flimsy towels between them.

McGee moaned as Grace lifted one arm and ran her hands through his almost dry hair, bringing him down and deepening the kiss.

Finally they separated, both gasping for breath. Both had that dazed look only freshly kissed people have, when the buzz is not over yet and they are still standing just because they are supporting each other.

Finally Grace grinned at McGee and grabbed his hand, gently dragging him behind her towards his bedroom.

"I wanna show you something."

"Really? In my bedroom?"

"Yep."

"What is that?"

"It's something called 'the beast of two backs'". Grace answered in a deadpan voice.

McGee laughed, mirth at the situation finally hitting him. "Vet's humor, hmm?"

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

Sighs, moans and groans were the sounds that filled the rest of the night till dawn, broken here and there by moments of pure exhaustion and sleep. So, while the new canine family got to know each other, memorizing the scents of each newborn member to their folds, the humans sealed their fate in their own way during a dance as old as time, making unspoken promises of devotion with their bodies, following instinct and joining two lifelines into one.


	15. What do dogs dream about?

**_Chapter 15: What do dogs dream about?  
><em>**

The low sound of whimpering woke up McGee, who struggled to leave his slumber as the sound became more and more insistent. He opened his eyes and smiled as he found a mad mass of unruly red curls spread over his chest, Grace's breathing softly whispering against his naked chest. Every time she exhaled a soft warm puff of air would come out of her delicate nose, tickling his skin.

The whimpering sound repeated just beyond the closed doors of his bedroom, so he sighed as he would have to leave the warm cocoon of blankets and female flesh to check it out. He gently ran his fingers through her fiery curls, fascinated as they appeared to come alive under the faint morning light coming through his window.

Morning had come, the pale sunlight daring to break through the clouds and gently kissing the pale female flesh currently resting on his arms.

He slowly turned on the bed, sliding the slumbering woman off his chest towards the bedsheets, trying his best not to wake her up. Apparently their previous activities had been enough to exhaust her, as Grace simply sighed and did not wake up.

He maneuvered his big body over hers, trying his best not to smother her with his weight and grimaced as he stepped on one of Grace's discarded shoes as his feet touched the ground, making a little bit of noise. He froze, his eyes fixed on her face, holding his breath afraid of waking her up but it was a false alarm. She snuggled deeper on his pillow and kept sleeping.

He finally left the bed and looked around the bedroom looking for the clothes he had thrown aside in the hurry to bed Grace. He found his undershirt and his boxers, donned then and left the bedroom looking for the source of the sound that had woke him up.

He crossed the living room and approached the dog bed where Freckles and Jethro were laying side by side with a small mountain of puppies whimpering between them. Freckles was on her side, the puppies pushing and attacking the tits seeking the nourishment only the dam could offer them. Jethro, wide awake, had one of the puppies between his paws, gently giving it a tongue bath as it wiggled excitedly, whimpering in the high pitch normal to newborn dogs.

The image was so cute and endearing that McGee couldn't stop smiling at it, feeling that this was what family was supposed to be. Two adults caring and protecting their young, showing all their love with tongue baths and soft nips at the scruff of their necks.

He sat down in front of the dog bed and watched with fascination at the whimpering bodies fighting each other, their eyes still closed, blindly seeking the warmth and nutrition only the dam could offer them. Jethro in his turn would lie placidly beside the pile of warm bodies, here and there catching one puppy that might fall from the pile and settling it on top of the others.

"You have a very nice family, Freckles."

The dam opened her eyes and lifted her eyebrows at him, breathing through her open mouth and letting her tongue hang to the side. She tilted her head to the side and studied the man before herself with an unblinking stare. McGee started a small staring contest with her, and once again felt a small flicker of awareness that something was different about her.

Dogs were well known for their short attention span but Freckles' unblinking gaze did not waver from his as if she was trying to read his thoughts.

"I bet that you're glad that you have them finally at your reach." He stretched an arm and, always checking from a sign of aggression from the dam, delicately took a puppy in his hand. The small furry ball squealed and whimpered until McGee cupped it into the palm of his hands, holding it gently. The small puppy opened its eyes and yelped, before starting to chew on McGee's fingers. Its tiny teeth, extremely sharp, felt like tiny needles on his skin, but the puppy was just trying to play so it made little pressure against the skin, not really breaking it.

McGee laughed at the puppy, offering his indicator for the puppy to suck as if it was a small tit. He felt the rough tongue against the tip of his finger as the puppy chewed enthusiastically its new toy.

"What's on his mind, Freckles?" McGee's tone of voice lowered, almost as a whisper, as he watched the small feeble creature in his hand. Extremely fragile, the small puppy wiggled and tried to stand on its feet on McGee's hand, just to fall back on its rump again.

"He doesn't have to worry about his bills; if their boss will headslap them for his mistakes or if his coworker will superglue their fingers to his computer keyboard. His life is reduced to playtime, food, peeing, pooping and sleeping. Then waking up and more playtime and peeing and pooping. And endless circle of a life so unchanged, going through this life without being suffocated by routine."

He rubbed a finger down the spine of the puppy, watching as it squirmed excitedly at the caress, shaking its head blindly seeking his finger.

"What do dogs dream about? Frisbees flying in the air or an endless supply of shoes to chew? Do they dream of running after rabbits or chipmunks? Or maybe that they are rolling on the grass, playing tag with other dogs… and…"

He released a deep sigh, feeling a wave of melancholy washing over him.

"They are not plagued with nightmares of their past mistakes. Of seeing people die and being unable to stop it. They don't … don't regret being alive because someone else died in their place." His last words came in a whisper, as if he was afraid to say them.

Yet still Freckles heard him. She slowly stood up, shaking the puppies away and took a step out of the doggie bed, touching McGee's arm with a cold nose. He lifted red eyes to the dog who whined at him, rubbing her nuzzle on him. He took a deep breath and hugged the dog's neck, feeling a wave of sadness engulf him as he remembered Kate, his friend from FLETC, the detective from Metro. So many people dead for nothing…

"I don't want to dream about dead people anymore, Freckles." He whispered against her neck, closing his eyes against the stubborn tears flooding his eyes. The dog whimpered and squirmed in his hold, so he gave her a little leeway. He rubbed a hand on his nose, wiping it discretely as he watched the dam return to the doggie bed, get one puppy by its scruff and carry it to his lap.

Then another one.

And another one.

McGee's melancholy lifted as the dam piled her puppies in his lap, their warm bodies wiggling against his legs, their yelps and crying filling his ears. He gently used his hands to keep them one on top of the other, as they blindly squirmed and tried to bite his fingers.

One puppy totally covered with golden fur was able to grab McGee's indicator and bit it firmly, shaking it sideways. McGee smiled at the baby dog and wiggled his finger in his mouth, making it whine excitedly.

Freckles released a long breath through her lips, leaning her head to the side and looking at the human slowly getting better from the deep pit of despair he had been as he played with her litter. His green eyes shone with genuine happiness as the puppies tried to crawl up his chest, bite his fingers or simply overwhelm him with their cuteness.

He was so distracted with his current living and wiggling attachment to his finger that he didn't notice when Grace appeared at the threshold of the bedroom, her hair a mess of red curls, wearing only one of his old MIT shirts.

"Timothy?"

He looked up at her and smiled at the absolute image of loveliness before him. Her face was puffy with sleep showing the marks of his pillows on pale skin. There were goosebumps on her skin as it was quite chilly in the living room when compared to the bedroom.

He had never seen a more enchanting vision than Grace at that moment.

"Hey?"

"Playing with the puppies?" She asked in a rough voice filled with sleep as she fisted her eyes. With her size and his shirt, she looked like a little girl in her daddy's clothes.

"Yeah. They are adorable." He looked down at his lap as another puppy, this one totally black, bumped into his brother and pushed him out of McGee's lap. Once it hit the floor it whined, before turning around and trying to crawl back to the human's lap.

Grace smiled and approached him, kneeling beside him. She used one hand to run softly over his shoulder blades in a gentle caress that made McGee whimper.

"Just as you are."

McGee smiled and looked at her, who leaned onto his chest and waited for him to finally throw and arm around her shoulders and squeeze her against his chest.

"I'm not _adorable_." McGee pronounced the word as if it was an epithet.

Grace snickered against his chest, before looking up and finding his face mere inches from hers.

"Of course you are."

His eyes flickered to her lips. "Really?"

"Really."

The distance became shorter.

"I'm not."

Even shorter.

"Are too."

"No way."

"Way"

Finally their lips touched, making McGee breathe deeply before opening his mouth and deepening the kiss as Grace literally melted in his arms. Their kiss continued, his left hand abandoning the puppies on his lap to go up and get lost in her curls. His senses became aflame, as passion rose between them in a fever pitch.

A yelp from a puppy brought them back to earth, making them aware of where they were. They looked at each other and grinned, before looking down to the puppies. Grace glanced then to Freckles and blushed, as the dog was looking at them with a knowing grin.

"I think we'd better take this party to a more private setting."

"Couldn't agree more." McGee's answer came in a low tone that brought shivers to the female.

They both delicately moved the puppies back to the doggie bed, patted both Jethro and Freckles wishing them a good night before walking holding hands towards the bedroom. The dam waited until the unmistakable noise of moaning and bed groaning could be heard behind the closed doors before leaving the doggie bed and walking to the computer.

The dog pushed the on button with her nose patiently waiting for it to boot. Once the initializing screen appeared, she rose on its rear paws and supported its front paws on the computer desk. She took a pen from the small Starbucks cup McGee used as a cup holder and slowly used it to press each key, inputting the password she had memorized from the time she had watched McGee booting the computer since the first night she had arrived in his home.

As the main desktop screen appeared, she used the mouse to select a random word editor. Blank paper before her eyes, she started to type a simple message to the couple making love a few feet away behind closed doors.


	16. I dream of bunnies

**_Chapter 16: I dream of bunnies_**

**_God will prepare everything for our perfect happiness in **heaven**, and if it takes my **dog** being there, I believe he'll be there. Billy Graham_**

Late Saturday morning Grace blinked her eyes, trying to clear the sleep away. She started to stretch herself but before she moved she felt a hand possessively holding one of her breasts. She startled a little before the memory of the previous night and the events of the early morning came back. She lifted her head from a very pale shoulder and found Timothy softly snoring, his mouth open as he breathed in and out through his lips. With his messy bed hair, long lashes and soft generous lips, he looked like a little boy totally exhausted after a full day playing at the park.

She giggled a little, before trying to smother her glee as she started to softly run her fingers over his sparse chest hairs. As her indicator started tracing circles around his male nipple, he woke up.

At first he was disorientated, a hand trying to slap away the feather soft touch, but he woke up fully when Grace took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. He lowered glazed eyes to her face, finding her eyes firmly on his.

"Hey." His voice was thick with sleep and he desperately needed a glass of water.

"Morning, gorgeous."

"Morning to you too, princess. What time is it?" He asked trying to blindly find his watch lying somewhere on the bedside table with a hand, while the other arm squeezed Grace against his chest, unwilling to let go.

"Late. But I don't have any other appointments besides checking on my newborn patients."

"Uhmmm." McGee gave up the search on his watch and turned to look at Grace, who now had her chin resting on his shoulder, her gaze as always with that mischievous glint he was coming to recognize as a prelude for one of her vet jokes.

"What are you planning for today?" He asked with a half smile, seeing how her grin became deeper.

"I was planning on doing an experiment."

"Really?"

"All in the name of science."

"Sounds promising. What is the premise you're planning to investigate?"

"I…" she kissed his chest, slowly moving so she was straddling his stomach, her hands moving to his neck as she leaned forward to capture his lips. "… am planning to prove…" Another peck on his lips. "… why the female of the species is the superior one."

McGee's eyebrows went up as he could feel laughter rumbling on his chest. "Oh, really?"

"Yep."

She giggled as she slowly crawled down his body, her fingers lightly running on the side of his rib cage. He smiled and just relaxed against the pillows, his eyes following her progression with curiosity.

"And how do you plan on… wow… uhm… oh... Grace? Ohhh! Grace? Oh. My. God. OH MY GOD!"

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

After a lazy morning in bed, the two humans left the bedroom eager to scavenge the fridge after some kind of food for their growling stomachs. Giggling at each other as little kids, they started to prepare some pasta and salad, stealing kisses as they walked by each other.

Grace stood before the fridge frying onions before pouring the ingredients for the thick sauce and she leaned her head to the side as McGee surprised her from behind, hugging her against his chest and raining kisses on her neck.

"I could get used to this, you know?" Grace muttered, closing her eyes at the caress.

"Really. That would be great, you know." He muttered against her neck.

"Ya think, Mister NCIS." She lowered the fire and turned in the circle of his arms, lifting her face so he could kiss her fully in the lips. McGee was going to kiss her but a blinking light on his computer distracted him, freezing him on his descending gesture.

"Hey, Earth to Tim." She said as she noticed his gaze somewhere over her shoulder.

"Didn't we shut down the computer last night before going to bed?" He mused, a frown marking his forehead.

"What?"

"The computer. I am sure I shut it down before… well, forget it." He kissed her forehead before leaving her pouting at the kitchen, approaching the computer that was on, the black screen showing that it was on sleep mode.

Grace shrugged, going back to the preparation of their lunch.

McGee touched his mouse, his puzzlement at the situation growing as he found a single Word file opened on the screen and a few sentences written on it.

He was sure he didn't write it and he couldn't phantom why Grace would write it as well, only if she had had an extraordinarily boring time while waiting for the puppies… And she had somehow heard his conversation with Freckles and was trying to pull his leg.

"Hey, Grace?"

"Yes, Tim?"

"Have you used the computer last night?"

"Me? I can't program the microwave to defrost meat. Why would I use it?"

He threw her a puzzled glance at her, who was using her most sincere expression on her face.

"You sure?"

"Pinky swear." She told before grabbing the other ingredients and pouring on the pan, the mystery forgotten from her mind.

McGee bit his lower lip, his gaze moving from Grace to the dog bed where the dog family was resting. Jethro was on his side being attacked by several puppies crawling over his chest and neck. Freckles was facing him, also on her side, several puppies attached to her tits desperately sucking the milk of the dam. Yet Freckles' stare was clear, piercingly direct on him, her attention never wavering from his face as if she were waiting for his reaction to the text on his screen.

Thinking back on the events of the previous night, the late night conversations with the dogs during the last week McGee felt he was standing at the edge of a precipice, his mind trying to grasp the meaning of a puzzle that was unfurling right before his eyes but his intellect was having a hard time to put all the pieces together.

Feeling a shiver running up his spine, McGee turned to the computer and leaned forward, reading the words on the screen and expecting the words to not mean what he was thinking they meant.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

_Hi Tim._

_Bunnies._

_I dream of bunnies_

_White cream or black bunnies running on grass_

_Sometimes they have red eyes or other colors_

_Not fan of Frisbee but some in my family think they r fun_

_Cant say about the babies _

_Too small to communicate yet. Later will ask them._

_But we also have bad dreams_

_Jan used to keep them away. Hugging me when they came_

_She is gone now and I am alone with babies_

_Thanks for helping me_

_Please call Travis or dark Lemuel and tell them we are fine_

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Lunch is served, my lord." Grace murmured as she leaned over his shoulder, her pale arms going around his neck, gently kissing his cheek. She frowned when she received no reaction from him. "Tim?"

"I think I'm going nuts. Definitely taking permanent residence in a nutty house or…" He turned chair so he could stare at Freckles who had left the doggie bed and her babies behind and was placidly sitting before him, her intense stare fixed on his face. " a couple of fries short of a happy meal."

"What are you talking about?" Grace was puzzled at his behavior as he and the dam were locked in a stare contest.

"Freckles, come here." McGee called, being immediately obeyed by the dog. She sat down on her hump between his legs, her head resting on his thigh, as he ran his fingers through the fur of her neck and scruff. He took the dam by her chin and forced her head up, staring in her freckled eyes and trying to find anything out of ordinary. "Did you write this?" He pointed to the screen of the computer.

Grace couldn't hold back a chuckle, leaving her position perched on his shoulder. "Tim, she's a dog. Of course she didn't write that."

"Then who did it?"

"I don't know. I didn't. You didn't. Maybe you were hacked. I don't know." She said exasperated.

"I wasn't hacked. There's no way someone could…" McGee was starting to get aggravated.

"Are we having our first fight?" Grace's good humored question brought him back from his puzzled mind, forcing him to face the situation at hand.

"I think we are."

"This is silly, you know. It doesn't matter who wrote that. We're fine. The dogs and the puppies are fine. Do we really have to fight over this?"

McGee sighed, still puzzled. He glanced at Freckles who was just licking her chops, staring at him with her normal doggy stare. "You're right. This is nuts. It doesn't matter." He turned to the computer and started to shut it down, not before saving the file on his desktop so he could investigate it later on.

"Come on, I'm hungry." She moaned, grabbing him by his hand and dragging him towards the small kitchen. He still glanced back at the computer, seeing its shut down screen blink before finally sitting down to eat.

But he didn't forget about it.


	17. Monday

_**Chapter 17: Monday**_

After a weekend spent together, the newly minted couple went separate ways on Sunday night so they could rest for the upcoming week. There was a swing on their steps and silly smiles on their faces which were immediately were latched upon by their coworkers.

At NCIS, McGee's apparent good humor was put under the microscope by Ziva and Tony, who immediately circled him like a pack of hungry wolfs sniffing a fresh kill as he sat down at his desk and started up his computer.

"So, interesting weekend, McGee?" Ziva asked, noticing a very satisfied male smirk on his face.

It was a different look, one that they weren't used to see on their usually placid colleague.

"It was… remarkable."

"And what was… remarkable about it? A certain redhead made your day?" Tony asked, barely containing his glee with this fresh gossip.

"I'm not the type of man to kiss and tell, Tony. But, as you have asked so nicely, yes, it is thanks to Grace that I had a remarkable weekend."

"I knew it! I knew it."

"It's not because what you're thinking though."

"NO?" Tony visibly deflated before McGee's eyes. "Why not?"

"She was of great help Friday night when Freckles went into labor."

McGee's smile was radiant, showing his pride at the litter born Friday night. His news was enough to distract Tony of his digging for info mission and to bring Ziva to his side, curious at the developments.

"Oh… really? Is she okay?"

"Yes. Thanks to Grace Freckles and Jethro are the proud parents of a litter of ten gorgeous puppies."

Regardless of the fact that Ziva spent most her childhood in training to be a heartless killer, there are some instincts that can't be erased by the ruthless training given by Mossad. And these were her TPM craving for chocolate and her kind heart towards animals. So she immediately went to McGee's side and hovered over his shoulder, eager for info.

"ohhhh… do you have pictures?" Ziva asked, squeezing his shoulder. He grinned in response and immediately connected his iPhone to download the pictures taken during the weekend.

Both their attitudes put a damper on Tony's enthusiasm, who was almost pouting as both ohhh'ed and ahhh'ed at the pictures.

"Ziva… check this out."

"Puppies? You had a good weekend because your bitch had… puppies?" Tony whined, seeing the strange giggling attitude of his colleagues.

"Ohhh McGee… They are absolutely adorable. Have you told Abby yet?"

"I know! Aren't they great? Grace said that I have to pick up names for each so I can register them… but I can't come up with that many names. And no, I haven't spoken to Abby about them yet." McGee said, as he put a new picture on the screen, one where he is sitting on the floor with several puppies on his lap.

"Why not?"

"Ahhhh, you know how Abby is… She will be all over the place because of the puppies, demanding to see them and ahhh I'd rather not." McGee tried to justify his actions but his real intention was to avoid a confrontation between Abby and Grace. The idea of one meeting the other was enough to give him shudders.

"What's going on here?" Gibbs usual unexpected appearance caused the three agents to jump, looking at him with guilty looks that immediately put him into alert.

"McGee has just had puppies, Boss." Tony said in a deadpan tone of voice, earning glares from the other two agents.

Gibbs turned to his youngest agent, looking him up and down as if trying to find something different. "McGee?"

"Boss? Oh.. that's…" McGee blushed five shades of red, throwing daggers with his eyes to Tony who was just grinning at him for putting him in the spot.

"Something you want to tell me?" Gibbs asked.

"No… ahhh my dog had puppies, Boss. And I…"

"Pictures. We were looking at the pictures." Ziva added, pointing to the pictures on McGee's screen.

"Really?" The marine's tone was amused.

"Ahhh Boss…" Gibbs went around his desk and looked at the pictures, a small smirk gracing his lips before disappearing definitely.

"Cute. But hadn't you said that it was temporary?"

McGee sighed as he watched Gibbs leaving his side and going to his desk, his eternal coffee cup in hand. "Yes, Boss.. but… now it isn't."

Gibbs froze on his way and glared to his younger agent, showing his displeasure at his answer. McGee immediately rushed to complete.

"Ah… I tried to contact Freckles' owner, Boss, but she's is dead. She died the night before I've found the dog."

"How?" That sparked a little curiosity in those blue eyes, the frank stare fixed on McGee.

"Car accident. Thanks to the wounds and scratches found on Freckles, I believe the dog was in the car when it happened. It also collaborates the fact that I've found her hiding in an alley just three blocks from the accident site."

"Uhmm" Gibbs took a sip of his coffee, sat at his desk and started to sort the papers on it. "Just as long these new puppies don't mess up with your work, I'm fine with it. Now back to WORK!"

His order got all agents back to their desks, immediately getting immersed on the routine of paperwork and background checks.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

Grace waltzed whistling in her vet office, smiling at her assistant as she donned the scrubs as she checked her schedule for the day.

"Hi Dr. Grace, you're looking absolutely radiant today. Any news you want to share?" Her assistant, Tammy asked as she watched her boss studying her chart with a silly smile on her face.

"Oh… Freckles had puppies last Friday." Grace said, her smile getting bigger as Tammy approached her barely containing her curiosity.

"And?"

"And Timothy and I … well… we've practiced baby making."

Tammy's shrill scream brought barks and meows from the current residents in the office. Grace giggled and shooed her assistant to the backoffice, looking over her shoulder and noticing the glare Old Bertha, the sixty two year old receptionist, was throwing at them. She dropped all pretense of studying her chart and giggled, eager to share her news.

"So… was it good?"

"Oh… he's soooo nice and cute and a gentleman to boot. We've talked and we are going to have dinner on Wednesday as long as he doesn't have a case. He's a Federal Agent, you see, so his schedule is a little bit irregular. But even if we don't see each other on Wednesday, I will go back to his place on Friday to check on the puppies."

"Oh, Grace, I'm so happy for you." Tammy hugged her boss, genuinely happy for the news. She let go and whispered, not willing to be overheard by Bertha. "I could see straight away he was smitten from the way he was looking at you."

"Yeah…" Grace sighed, her gaze falling on some paperwork on the counter behind Tammy. "Hey, what's that?" She left Tammy's side and started checking the papers.

"Ah… some flyers they are giving away this week. Lost dogs, rewards, sick children looking for their pets, the usual."

Grace's gaze stopped in a pink sheet of paper, the words bringing a chill to her spine. "Have you read this one?" She showed it to Tammy, who nodded and supported her back on the exam table behind herself.

"Yep, I was going to ask you about that one. They've been calling every other day and this is the third time this week that they drop that flyer here. They must be really desperate to get that dog back."

"The description is remarkably like Freckles, but the info on it is wrong."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Freckles wasn't a lab dog. They don't keep mutts as lab dogs as their mix breeding might change the lab results as their resistance to diseases is greater than purebreds." Grace frowned at the text, its tale becoming more and more confusing. "And Freckles' owner died in a car accident, Timothy checked it on Friday. She wasn't killed in a freak lab accident."

Tammy leaned towards Grace, trying to read the flyer upside down. "Could have they got their stories wrong?"

"No, I don't think so. Either way, this is nothing." Grace crushed the paper in her hands, making it a small ball and dumping in the garbage can a couple of feet away. "Going to do my rounds and later this morning I'm going to check Barney. I'll be out the whole day at the horse paddock so, if you need me, just send me a beep on my Nextel."

"Why are you still trying to save Barney? Any other vet would have sacrificed that horse after he broke his leg in that race."

"Because he deserves a chance. We humans put these animals in very stressing situations and when they get hurt during the races people just kill them off, not giving them not a chance to recuperate from their wounds. Barney's owner loves him, and I'll do my best to at least give him a couple of decent years ahead despite of his wounds."

"You have a good heart, Dr. Grace."

"I do. Now back to work, I gotta go." Grace left Tammy alone and went to the other room, checking in her op patients before her appointment at the horse paddocks.

Once Tammy saw Grace was out of hearing range, she ran to the bin and grabbed the crushed paper ball, slowly opening the paper and reading it attentively. She whistled at the reward offered for the return of the mutt, thinking about her debts at the bank and her mortgage due next week. She bit her lip and looked towards the room where Grace had disappeared, hearing the doc gently talking to Tok, a parrot whose wing they had fixed on Friday.

She closed her eyes and gently folded the paper, tucking it into her apron pocket. She would give them a call after Grace left for her visit to Barney.


	18. Phone calls

_**Chapter 18 Phone calls**_

"Hello, is this Mr. Olsen? My name is Tammy Irwin, I'm calling you about a dog …"

NCIS NCIS NCIS

The vet's office was empty during lunch time, as Bertha glared at Tammy and said she was going to Johnny's for her usual salad and later she was going to her doctor's appointment. Again. Tammy nodded and went back to her organizing of the folders of their patients.

Grace had left two hours before to the horse paddock, not being scheduled to arrive until the end of the day, leaving Tammy to handle any emergencies that might come during the day. The usual barking and meowing of the current residents of the clinic made a backdrop for the radio playing in a soft rock station, while Tammy kept her eyes on the files she was organizing.

The door chimed open, leaving a tall man with a moustache and deep grey eyes enter. His black hair was carefully combed and his clothes spoke of good money. He looked around the reception and immediately found Tammy behind the counter. She looked up and smiled distractedly at him, before her gaze went back to her folders.

"May I help you, sir?"

"I'm looking for Tammy Irwin." The man said in deep tone of voice, one that could easily be a success in late night radio talks.

"I'm Tammy Irwin." She answered, looking up at him at the exact moment he locked the door behind himself. She frowned at that, as the man approached her with an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

"I'm Mr. Olsen. We've spoken earlier this morning about a mutt."

Her eyes opened wide, a smile blossoming on her face.

"Oh yes, please come on in." She pointed to the backoffice, where barking and meowing could be heard.

"Do you have the dog here?" Mr. Olsen asked, his gaze fixed at the door leading to the Vet's backoffice where the exam rooms were as well as the cages of the inhouse patients.

"Let's talk first. Please follow me." The man followed Tammy towards the backoffice, his alert gaze checking each corner of the room before locking the door after himself as he entered the exam room, one of his hands slowly crawling to the volume of a gun hidden by the perfect cut of his jacket.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

McGee was doing a simple background search for a cold case of one of the other units when his cellphone rang around five pm. He immediately answered it, his eyes glued to the screen as the info rolled before his eyes.

"Special Agent McGee."

Silence.

"Hello?"

Only deep breathing could be heard until a sob came out, immediately bringing his senses to alert. "Who is this?"

Finally a faint voice came out, "Tim?"

McGee's heart immediately started pounding, making him stand up and alerting his colleagues that something was wrong. "Grace? What's wrong?"

"The … ah…" She was hyperventilating, obviously in panic, trying to speak but her words came only in gasps.

"Grace! Grace?"

"She's dead."

"Who's dead?" At his words, he immediately opened his drawer and got his car keys, wallet and gun, getting ready to leave at a moment's notice. He observed his colleagues doing the same.

"I… I need you, Tim. I … don't know… I…" Grace sobbing intensified, breaking his heart at her despair.

"Don't panic. Where are you? Don't bother. I'll trace your location. Just stay with me on the phone and I'll find you." He immediately opened a search and started tracking her call.

"She… someone shot Tammy… There's blood everywhere."

"You're at the vet's office, right? I'm on my way. Listen. Don't touch anything, just get out of the room and go to the neighbor's shop. Stay there and ask them to call 911. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"But Tim…"

"Grace,_ just do as I've said._ Go to the next door shop, lock the doors and just open it for me. Okay?" His tone admitted no argument, so she deflated and nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her.

"Grace?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving. Are you coming?"

"Yes, I'm already on my way."

"Thanks."

They disconnected without saying goodbye. When he raised his eyes, he found Gibbs, Tony and Ziva looking at him, all ready to roll.

"Boss, gotta go."

"McGee?" Gibbs' voice ordered a sitrep.

"Something happened at the vet's office. Grace called in hysterics saying someone was shot inside her shop."

"Any witnesses?" Gibbs was already working the case in his head.

"None that I know of. She was going to be away on a consult the whole day." He looked at Gibbs in despair, running a shaking hand over his short hair and feeling a shiver as he imagined all kind of scenarios in his head. "Boss, _that's my girl_." His tone was sincere, his eyes showing the dept of the emotions.

Gibbs grinned, knowing it took a lot from his younger agent to even admit that outloud. "Good enough for me. GRAB YOUR GEAR."

As a unit, all four walked in hurried steps towards the elevator,

"Boss?"

"Lead the way, Tim."


	19. The plot thickens

_**Chapter 19: The plot thickens**_

The drive to the vet's office was tense with Gibbs at the wheel, Ziva in the passenger seat and Tony and McGee both extremely silent in the backseat. Tony had even tried to pester McGee out of his foul mood but after an angry retort from Tim and a threat of bodily harm from Ziva, he decided that it was wiser to let his Probie continue staring out of the window with his heart breaking without further comments.

McGee's forlorn expression became agitated when the car turned at the street where the vet's office was. Two police cars were parked right in front, their blue and red strobe lights shining in the dimming light of the afternoon.

Gibbs hadn't even put the car into park before Tim opened the door and jumped out of the still moving vehicle, running to a familiar redhead figure sitting on the steps of Brenda's Tea shop being interrogated by a uniformed men. Brenda, a thin woman in her sixties and with a sharp attitude that completed the ensemble, had an arm around her shoulders, silently offering support as Grace gave her witness statement to the cop.

But McGee's hurried steps distracted her from the man in front of her. She rose teary eyes to him and, as soon as she recognized him, escaped from Brenda's side hug and ran to his arms, not caring to show her fear in front of him, sure that he wouldn't hesitate to catch her. He held his ground when she jumped into his arms, hugging her firmly against his chest and kissing her red hair, silently thanking God that she was okay.

"Tim… I… ahh…"

"It's okay, I've got you now." He whispered against her neck, not bothering to hide his relief at finding her safe and sound. He closed his eyes against the stubborn tears that insisted on prickling his eyes, choosing instead to squeeze her firmly against his chest.

Gibbs ignored the emotional meeting happening right beside him and approached the officer, who nodded at him as the older man presented his NCIS id.

"What do you have here, officer…"

"Lewis, sir. I believe it's an attempted robbery gone wrong. We've had some of those in the last weeks. Some kids come in, mess around the place, take what they need and leave whoever was in charge in a body bag." He glanced at the couple, waving a hand towards them. "Your man knows Ms. Liebfield, Mr…"

"Gibbs. Special Agent Gibbs." He looked over the officer's shoulder, seeing another cop coming out of what he assumed was the vet's clinic door and shake his head at his colleague. "Do you mind if we take a look around?"

"Why would NCIS be interested in a vet's assistant murder, if I may ask?"

"You may not." Gibbs retorted, receiving a glare from the officer. He gave a grunt, mentally dismissing the officer and started walking towards the door, indicating that Ziva and Tony should follow him.

Grace, now calmer, fidgeted in McGee's arms, curious about one thing. "He's right. I'm glad you're here but… why would your boss be willing to investigate this?"

McGee bit his lower lip, trying to figure out what to say to her. She took a step back obviously noticing his internal struggle and eager to read his face and his eyes. "What are you not telling me?"

"I… I might have put you in danger."

She was outraged at that thought. "That's ridiculous! How…"

"I'm a Federal Agent, Grace. It wouldn't be the first time that someone involved in a case tried to…"

She started shaking her head, horrified, but he continued. "… to use someone I like to get to me or to my team. That's why Gibbs wants to check this out. If there's any possibility that someone is trying… to hurt you because of what I do…"

"That's ridiculous! We've just got together! How would someone find out so soon?"

McGee ran a shaking hand through his short hair, obviously at loss of what to do. "I don't know. You will be the first one to know when I do." Having said that, he took her hand gently squeezing it. "But before anything else, you told me jokingly that you had huge doses of drugs in there. Enough to kill a man or a horse. Do you know if any of these were stolen?"

"I…" She shook his head, trying to remember what she saw when she came back after her visit at the paddocks. "I haven't had the chance to check the stock yet."

He glanced towards the door where Gibbs was talking with a cop, probably informing that they were taking over the scene. "Okay, do you think you can come with me and check that?"

"Sure. Do you think it's about the drugs?"

"We can't be sure of anything yet. But we'll check all possible angles, okay?" He gently took one of her curls, his fingers softly threading through her hair and pushing it behind her ear. "Come with me." Squeezing her hand, he gently guided her towards Gibbs, who opened the door and let the couple inside the waiting area of the vet's clinic.

To McGee's trained eyes, there was nothing out of place. It was exactly as it was when he dropped by on Sunday with Freckles. The same furniture, the same plants, the same posters of dogs playing with Frisbees on the walls.

"Ms. Liebfield." Gibbs offered his hand, receiving a firm shake in return. "I'm Agent Gibbs, Tim's supervisor." He added gently, waving his head in McGee's general direction. He noticed the protective arm his younger agent kept around the redhead and decided to thread lightly, at least for now. "I'm sure you've been through a great shock but I would like you to answer a few questions."

"Sure." She glanced briefly at McGee, who nodded an okay to her. "And please call me Grace."

"Okay, Grace," He looked around the waiting room, "Is there anything different about this room? Anything that caught your eye?"

Sighing, she looked around, seeing the messy piles of dog show magazines on the corner, the sofa scratched by the feline patients, the empty counter … "No, there was nothing here that merely indicated what had happened in the backoffice. The door was even locked from the inside."

That caught both agents' attention. "From the inside?" McGee asked, receiving a nod from Grace.

Gibbs approached the door, studying the locks on it and the small chain hanging broken at the doorjamb.

"Yes, I even had to break the chain because I knocked and nobody came to open it for me."

"Don't you have a key?" She nodded. The older man put on gloves, gently touching the broken chain and moving it in the harsh light of the halogen lamps.

"For the lock yes, but not for the chain. The chain can't be opened from outside. That's why Tammy had to wait until I arrived before leaving, because she had to open it for me when I finally arrived at five."

"Can you dust this for fingerprints?" Gibbs asked, receiving a nod McGee, who left Grace's side and went to work, opening his backpack and getting his fingerprint set out.

Gibbs left McGee at his work and went to Grace's side, who was standing in the middle of the room just observing them for a moment.

"What can you tell us about the victim?"

"Tammy? She was a great assistant. Nobody had a word to say against her."

"We'll see about that." Gibbs muttered darkly, already making a list of possible suspects in his mind. "Any boyfriends, family, problems at work?"

"She wasn't dating, she was more of the flirty type." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "She was a love-them-and-leave-them kind of girl, not interested in anything serious. Her family is from Jersey - dad a bus driver, mom a high school teacher - and… I've never had any problems with her."

"Boss?" Tony called out, coming from the back door with an evidence bag in hand. He paused when he saw Grace, who noticing his reticence, moved away from the agents towards the old leather sofa, sitting on it as they got together to talk.

"Talk to me DiNozzo." Gibbs demanded when he noticed she wasn't in hearing distance.

"This wasn't a robbery gone wrong."

"What makes you think that?"

DiNozzo turned his back to Grace, effectively blocking her vision as he lifted his evidence bag to Gibbs' gaze. "Do you know any thief who steals drugs from vets and knows how to make one of this?"

Gibbs turned the bag lightly in his hand, immediately recognizing its design. "Homemade silencer. A cut of a PVC pipe, foam and tape."

"Yep, and the victim was killed execution style, one shot at the back of her head; when she was down, three shots on her back at close range."

"He's a pro."

"That's for sure." Tony added, turning to Grace who was nervously biting her nails, looking forlornly at a scratch Ronnie, the cat, had made during his last visit for vaccination. "You… Probie's chick..." She looked glassily at him.

McGee immediately took offense, putting away his tools now that he had dusted the door and the chain for prints. "Her name is Grace, Tony."

"Of course, how could I forget it?" He gave McGee, who growled at him in a low tone, a sarcastic smile. Approaching Grace, who had left her sitting position at the sofa and now was fidgeting nervously before the agents, Tony asked. "Listen… Grace, has Tammy told you of any problem she might be having with someone? Or maybe … she was acting somehow different from her usual quirks. Anything at all?"

"No, I've just told Agent Gibbs that she was just a sweet kid. She would never raise a hand towards anyone, either man or beast. She loved what she did, despite her low salary."

"Wait a minute, low… salary?" Tony gave her a charming smile, glancing at McGee who was still frowning at him.

"Yeah… she was having some cashflow problems. She didn't like commenting it but… I knew about it because of the bank letters which kept always coming in her name and how desperate she would look for a while."

Gibbs stared at her for a moment, "You hadn't told me that before."

"I've just remembered it. And I don't see a point, really. Everybody has money problems today. And there's nothing…" She paused, her gaze becoming vacant as her mind splashed something before her eyes. "… nothing…"

McGee noticed the pause, immediately going on alert. "Grace, what's going on?"

"Oh…" Her sight finally cleared, and when she looked at McGee she looked definitely spooked. "There… there was something."

"Something what?"

"Something different about today." She moved towards the backoffice door, but all three agents blocked her way, effectively stopping her from going to the butcher house in the back. "I have to show you something."

"What?" Gibbs asked.

"There was a flyer this morning that she showed me before I left for the paddocks. It must still be in the trash can by the surgery table." Gibbs waved a hand to DiNozzo, who rushed towards the door looking for said trash can.

"What was in it?"

"It was a missing dog's flyer."

"Why was it important?" Gibbs wasn't seeing the connection, but Grace hadn't moved her gaze from McGee, her worry evident in her eyes.

"It was about Freckles."

"What?"

"They were seeking a mutt, half breed between German shepherd and Labrador and its physical characteristics were very similar to Freckles."

Her gaze didn't waver as she saw horror slowly appearing in his face.

"And?" Gibbs asked, not acknowledging the silent communication between the couple.

"It said that it was a lab dog carrier of a deadly disease and that they had a hefty reward to anyone who found it and returned but it was all wrong."

"How wrong?" McGee asked.

"Yeah, it said that they were Freckles' owner but you told me yourself that Freckles' owner died in a car accident the day before you found her. So I've dismissed it as fake. Do you think it's a coincidence?"

"Rule #39." Gibbs said, turning to DiNozzo and Ziva who approached him each with an evidence bag in hand. Tony handed to Gibbs the evidence bag with a pink flyer in it, waiting as the older man read its contents with care.

"Where was it?" He asked, receiving the answer from Ziva as she opened her own evidence bag, touching the cellphone in it with gloved hands and checking the last outgoing calls.

"Front pocket of her service apron."

"What is rule #39?" Grace looked confused from one agent to the other, eager to see if they thought the flyer was important or not.

"There is no such thing as coincidence." McGee muttered, looking over Gibbs' shoulder and reading the flyer.

Tony left a low whistle out, "It's a lot of money for a pregnant mutt, Boss."

"Why would they offer half a million for a pregnant dam?" Grace asked, receiving just a sharp shake of head from Gibbs.

"For the same reason they would kill for any information about it. Ziva?"

"The second last phone call was to the phone on the flyer." She said, showing the phones recorded on the memory of the phone so Gibbs, Tony and McGee could see it.

"What?" Grace was stupefied, while McGee took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

"Where is the dog now?" Gibbs asked McGee, who kept his eyes closed as he replayed the events of the morning, leaving his home and going to NCIS.

"My place. The dog sitter called me around noon asking to stay over for a while. Her niece was coming over after school and she wanted to play with the puppies."

"Call her. Now." Gibbs ordered, immediately going to Grace's side who was starting to freak out, looking from one man to the other completely lost. "Grace, I need you to go with Ziva to NCIS."

"What? Why? Why would someone kill Tammy for some puppies? What's going on?"

McGee took his phone out and before he dialed out, it started ringing. He frowned as he recognized the number of his landlord in it, answering it. "Yes, this is McGee." He blanched at whatever the person on the other side of the line. "Oh…Yes. I … I'm on my way."

He disconnected distractedly, his wide green eyes looking with shock to Grace and Gibbs.

"McGee?"

"Boss, there was a shootout in my building. Someone's just broken into my apartment."


	20. What's up, Doc?

**_Chapter 20: What's up, Doc?_**

"Why would someone try to steal _puppies_?" Ziva's question brought everyone out of their stupor.

"Maybe because they are not ordinary puppies after all." Gibbs muttered, his eyes fixed on the pink flyer in his hand. If there was any chance the flyer was right, then they had a lab dog out there that someone was even wiling to kill to get it back.

Grace suddenly became energized, going towards the door leading to the backoffice where her dead friend was. McGee tried to grab her arm but she twisted out of his reach, glaring at him with burning green eyes.

"Grace…"

"I need to get my surgery supplies."

"Why?"

"Think, Timothy! _Just think!_" She shouted at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Jethro would never let anyone harm Freckles OR her litter. If someone broke into your apartment…"

McGee closed his eyes as terror froze the blood in his veins. "He would have to go through Jethro first."

"And he wouldn't go down without a fight." Gibbs completed.

After his affirmative, she left the reception and entered the backoffice, ignoring the blood splattered on the walls of her once pristine surgery and going straight to where she had dropped her surgery bag when she first arrived. She checked the contents first, distractedly listening to the NCIS agents entering the room right after her.

"What will you need?" McGee asked, his gaze falling on the dead assistant before going back to his girlfriend, kneeling a few feet away of the bleeding woman.

"There's some gauze on the second drawer right behind you, I need a lot of it. And I have to check something in my computer." She glanced at Gibbs, pointing to the screen on sleepmode to her left. "May I touch the computer?"

Gibbs glanced at Ziva. "Have you dusted it for prints?"

"Yes."

Gibbs waved at the vet, who had gone completely in doctor mode. "Go ahead."

He watched with certain amusement as the little redhead started barking orders to his agents, asking for supplies in the fridge, surgical scalpels and masks from this or that drawer, being immediately obeyed thanks to the authority in her voice, something that reminded him somehow of Jenny. He grinned at that thought.

"Got it." She jumped up from her computer and went to a big refrigerated cupboard on her left side, stretching on her tiptoes trying to grab a bag right at the end of the top drawer. He went behind her and reached the bag for her thanks to his superior height, frowning a little as he felt it squish in his hand as he handed it over for her.

"What is this?" He looked curious at the dark brown liquid in the small bag.

"It's blood. I had Jehtro typed in his last visit so I'm taking it just a precaution. She looked around and rushed to her bag, dropping the notes in the bag and gesturing to McGee and Tony do the same with the things they had gathered for her. "I'm ready."

"Good." Gibbs looked around, "Tony, Ziva, secure the crime scene and call Ducky to get the body. I'll drive McGee and Doc to his place, check the situation over there. We meet back at NCIS."

McGee glanced confused at Gibbs, seeing the same confusion on Grace's face as she stood up holding the heavy surgical bag in her hand. He took a step and took it from her hand, almost toppling under its weight. "Ah… Boss?"

Gibbs, sensing the silent question on McGee's tone, just smiled at the redhead staring at him with intense green eyes. "Well, we can't keep on calling you _Probie's girl_, can we?"

For a moment, she grinned at him, before she physically pushed McGee out of the surgery, eager to get on the road and reach her canine patient. Gibbs glared at Tony and Ziva, receiving nods that everything was under control, soon following the couple out of the vet's office towards their car.


	21. Blood

**_Chapter 21: Blood_**

**_Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole. ~Roger Caras_**

Their arrival at McGee's apartment building was a repeat of their arrival at the vet's office, with the same red and blue strobe lights welcoming them. The only difference this time was that instead of McGee jumping out of the car it was Grace who did it.

The two agents hurried after the redhead who navigated between the officers, finally settling on a fast pace towards the small apartment at the end of the corridor where two uniforms were talking with a balding man in a gray sweater standing by the threshold.

"Mr. Robbins," McGee called out, receiving a thankful glance from his landlord who gestured at him.

"That's Timothy. He's the one who lives here." Mr. Robbins said to the cops as stretched his hand towards Timothy, who grasped them in a firm handshake as soon he was in touching distance. "I'm so glad you came. This is a horrible, horrible thing to happen."

"Have you seen anything?" McGee asked, throwing a concerned glance at Gibbs who took the two LEOs a couple of steps away so he could talk to them, soon turning his attention back to his landlord as he started talking.

"Seen anything? No. But I have good ears and it was a huge noise. At first I thought it was a car engine coughing but then the sound repeated over and over. I knew then that something awful had happened. It took me a couple of minutes to calm down Marie and get my baseball bat and…"

McGee threw a concerned glance to Grace who was eager to get going, but they needed clearance from the cops before going into the crime scene. Finally Gibbs finished talking to the cops and approached the couple, gesturing with his head that they could go in.

Grace immediately threw a tense smile to Mr. Robbins and pushed McGee towards the door.

"It's going to be a mess, Doc. Can you handle some blood?" Gibbs asked the redhead as they entered the room, noticing the broken lock and the bullet hole on the wood at the same height of the peephole, the velocity splatter on the kitchen counter, floor and walls, all that crowned with a large pool of blood coming from the dead dog sitter on the floor.

Thanks to small mercies, her body had been covered with a white sheet.

"I'm a doctor, Agent Gibbs. Either human or animal, blood is blood." Grace looked around, noticing the lack of whimpering that she had come to associate with the puppies, yet there was a faint crying coming from the bedroom that raised her curiosity.

McGee took the lead and went around the body, feeling a wave of despair at the meaningless loss of life. He approached one uniformed man who was standing right in the middle of his living room with a small notebook in his hand. He found nothing out of ordinary in his kitchen and kept walking.

"Sir, where is…"

A small whimper caught his attention, making him look towards the corner where the dog bed had been that morning. The scene broke his heart in seconds, his spontaneous cry becoming impossible to hold back.

"JETHRO!"

His shout brought Grace to his side and the young vet gasped at the sight of the poor animal before her eyes. Jethro had blood all over his mouth, probably from one of his attackers, as well as some cuts and bruises around his neck and head. There was a slow bleeding wound in his chest from a bullet hole, his breaths coming in little pain filled gasps.

"Oh, Jethro!" She murmured, before going to McGee's side and kneeling before the broken animal who tried in vain to move towards his owner, wailing in pain at each try.

McGee closed his eyes as he gently touched the bleeding head of the dog, feeling stubborn tears filling his eyes. The traces on the floor said a very bloody battle had taken place, with Jethro trying to defend his femme and her litter, but his sharp teeth were no match to the bite of bullets. As the dog figure out he couldn't win in frontal attack, he dragged himself to place his body between Freckles and the litter, but whoever attacked him stepped on the pools of dog blood and took them all. Shaking in rage and shock, McGee barely acknowledged Grace as she started her job, checking the seriousness of the injuries.

"He didn't let anyone touch him, so we chose to ask your landlord to call you," the officer said, seeing the strong emotion gripping the young agent. "Your dog sitter was dead on sight. Bullet straight into her brains. But the kid survived."

"Kid?" Gibbs asked, his gaze leaving the couple and the fatally wound dog to pierce the officer.

The officer lifted his eyebrow, silently pointing to the soft sound of crying coming to the bedroom. Gibbs immediately marched towards it, eager to get back to the job.

"One of my men is with her!" The officer shouted, his gaze coming back to the lady checking the dog on the floor. "Ah… ma'am, maybe you should let someone do that…"

"No! I'm his doctor." Grace turned to McGee, grabbing a good bunch of gaze and pushing it against the bleeding wound on Jethro's chest. "Timothy, baby. I need you here."

"Oh, God!"

"TIM!"

He turned tortured eyes at her, finally able to listen to hear between the waves of self recrimination bombarding his mind.

"Yeah…"

"Listen to me. He is going to survive, okay?" McGee bit his lower lip, struggling to put his emotions on hold. Grace continued, "I need you to go the bathroom and bring me as many old towels as possible. We need to move him, but I can't raise him on my own, so we will improvise a stretcher."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, you are messing up my crime scene." Said the officer, just to receive a fierce glare from the vet who immediately dug around her bag for some painkillers. She kept a shaking hand holding the gauze against the wound as she ripped the cap of the medicine with her teeth. Spitting it out, she told the cop. "I may be messing your crime scene but I'm saving your only witness to the crime, sir."

"I have another witness."

"Who is too traumatized to say anything, for sure. Your witness may be able to identify the criminal. Mine can _track_ him down."

McGee numbly moved to his bedroom, just pausing at the threshold to look at Gibbs gently talking to a four year old loudly sobbing in the arms of another officer. Gibbs gave him a silent nod, indicating that all was under control, so McGee stumbled into his bathroom and grabbed the whole pile of clean towels in his cupboard, rushing back towards the living room and kneeling beside Grace and Jethro.

"Here." Grace took one of his hands and forced him to hold the gauze in place, as she took the fist towel and opened it, placing it beside the dog and immediately drenching it in blood.

"Grace?"

"Help me move him, will ya?" Both took position at one extremity of the dog and put their hands under his shaking frame. "one, two, three… GO!" Both moved the dog in one fluid way to the open towel, placing him in the middle of it.

They took the edges of the towel as if it was a stretcher and with a coordinated move lifted the whimpering dog to the kitchen counter, splashing the cups and spice holders on the floor, uncaring to the mess they've just made.

"Now what?" McGee asked, gasping as new blood started to seep from Jethro's wounds.

Grace slapped on latex gloves, opening a small kit with several surgery scalpels on one the high chairs of the counter and put a small surgery mask over her mouth and nose. She grabbed a small bag with some kind of clear liquid and slapped it on McGee's hand, attaching a thin plastic tube to it and unfurling it until it could reach the dog on the counter.

"Just hold that high and let me do my job." With a small needle, she found Jethro's vein in his front paw and connected the plastic tube in the line, immediately starting a delicate operation in the improvised surgery room in McGee's kitchen.


	22. Out of the mouth of babes

**_Chapter 22: Out of the mouth of babes  
><em>**

The little four-year old was softly whimpering in the arms of the female police officer gently rocking her. The woman was humming softly as she rubbed an open palm on the back of the kid who fisted her eyes before fixing big brown eyes on Gibbs as he sat beside them on McGee's bed.

He studied the scared little girl in front of himself and glanced briefly to the cop, "Has she said anything yet?"

"No, she's just cried." The officer said, gently smiling as the kid hid her face on her neck as Gibbs sat closer.

"Do you know her name?" He whispered.

A muffed sound came the officer's neck. The cop squeezed her a little harder against her chest. "Will you tell us your name, princess?"

The little girl left her hiding place and sat back, her gaze going from Gibbs to the officer. "Andy."

"Andy." Gibbs repeated smiling at her and getting a tiny smile in return. "That's a lovely name."

"Thanks." She stuck a finger in her mouth and sucked vigorously trying to feel safe again.

"Andy, I know you're scared. But I need your help to catch the bad guy who hurt your auntie." Gibbs saw her big brown eyes filling with tears and hurried to add. "And I also have to save the puppies."

'PUPPIES!" That got her attention, her finger leaving her mouth as she tried to move from the officer's lap to Gibbs', agitating her short plump arms towards him. "Puppies! Puppies!"

He gave her a grin, opening his arms and getting the several pounds of squirming child in his arms. The little kid girl threw her arms around his neck, squealing against his neck. "Puppies, puppies, puppies!"

"Yeah, the puppies. What can you tell me about them?"

"Oh…" She calmed down a little, sitting on his lap and playing with the zipper of his jacket, going up and down in her little hands. "The puppies were cute." And she glanced at her fingers, opening and closing then. Finally she raised both her hands and showed all her ten fingers. "And they were this many."

"Really? Ten puppies. Wow. And… were mama dog and papa dog mad at the bad man?"

Andy pouted and nodded, "They barked and attacked him, making him scream. Then there was pop pop sound like in the TV and papa dog fell hurt and mama dog ran to me and the puppies, barking at the bad man. Then the other man took me by the arm and dragged me here, as the bad man pointed the gun to the mama dog and put the puppies in a bag."

He glanced briefly to the officer, noticing the surprise on her face. Gibbs gently touched her rosy cheeks, wiping her tear tracks with his callused finger. "Are you saying that there were two bad men, one who shot the papa dog and the one who locked you here in the room?"

Andy nodded vigorously, her short black hair going up and down, "They stole the puppies." She whispered as if she was saying a big secret to him.

"What can you tell me about them? Were they tall? Fat? Bigger than me? Smaller than me?"

Andy rubbed her nose with an open hand, scrunching it a little. "They smelled funny."

"How funny?" Gibbs frowned at the little girl, "Like flowers or wood?"

"No, silly, like fruit."

Gibbs stared at the little girl sitting on his lap, but he noticed a startled look come on the officer by his side. "What?"

The officer opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind. Instead she stood up and went to McGee's bathroom, closing the door behind herself. Gibbs became curious as he could hear her opening and closing doors, as if looking for something. Finally she opened the door, coming back with a small bin. On it there were several brands of man's cologne.

He grinned at her ingenuity and gave her a little nod as she opened the cap of the first one.

"Andy, we're going to play a game, okay?" The officer said.

"What game? I like games." The little girl sighed and leaned over, settling her head on Gibbs' chest.

"I want you to sniff these bottles and tell me which one has the fruit smell you felt when the bad man touched you."


	23. Just find them

**_Chapter 23: Just find them_**

When Gibbs came out of the bedroom cradling a sleeping Andy in his arms, her aunt's body had already been moved and the CSI were finishing the complete sweep of the place. He noticed Grace and McGee hunched over Jethro's body laying on the counter, both totally focused on the hurt dog. The LEO standing on the corridor waved at him, so he left the apartment with the little girl.

"Her mother has just arrived. She had dropped her here after school before going to her own job. Tatyana, the aunt, was supposed to watch her until later today." The officer whispered softly, unwilling to wake up the traumatized child.

"And she ended up with a bullet in her head instead." Gibbs glanced at the pool of blood on the floor. The female officer came from the bedroom holding an evidence bag in her hand. He gestured with his head that she should come closer and, once she was in touching distance, he transferred the sleeping child to her arms. "Her mother is downstairs, you know what to do."

"Ay, sir." She answered, carefully cradling the girl in her arms. She passed him the evidence bag. "I believe you will need this."

Gibbs looked down to the orange reddish bottle of cologne in his hand, smirking lightly at her. "Yep."

With a grin, the officer nodded to her fellow colleague before going down the corridor, finally disappearing in the middle of the CSIs and officers coming and going. Gibbs, holding the bag with the bottle of cologne, entered the apartment again, noticing that apart the removal of the body, nothing had been touched.

"Gibbs," Grace called him out without raising her eyes from Jethro's chest. "Come here."

Gibbs approached her, walking along the kitchen towards the counter and observing how McGee held an IV bag high in one arm and the other he had the flashlight of his cell phone turned to whatever Grace was doing on Jethro's chest.

"Grab a Tupperware on the second door of the cupboard above your head to your left, will you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, but despite McGee's brief gaze at him, none of the two youngsters bothered to explain anything to him. Turning around, he went to the cupboard, opened the second door and found several Tupperware containers neatly organized in two shelves. Smirking lightly, he took a small one out and came back to the counter.

"Open it up."

He followed the order, offering the opened container to her. She frowned a little and seconds later, lifted her tweezers from Jethro's body and dropped something metallic in it. Gibbs rolled the container in his hand and immediately recognized its contents.

"A .45 bullet." Gibbs said, lifting his eyes and finding McGee's gaze on him.

"I'm willing to bet it will be a match to the one Ducky pulls out of Tammy's body." McGee murmured darkly.

"Here comes another one." Grace muttered, her tweezers coming out of Jethro's body again. This time Gibbs didn't hesitate and offered her the container so she could drop the bullet in it. "I've repaired most of the damage, but I will sew him up for awhile because I want to come back again to check if I can repair some more." Grace glanced at Gibbs, gesturing to her black surgery bag. "Gibbs, open it and get the blood in it, please?"

Gibbs closed the container and went to the bag, finally finding the squishy bag of dog blood where he had dropped earlier. "What do you want me to do?"

"Put it on the microwave for twenty seconds."

"What?" McGee couldn't hold back his surprise, so Grace glanced at him before going back to sewing Jethro's chest. Now that she had finished the most serious injury, she could suture the others.

"He's lost a lot of blood, Tim. His blood pressure is dropping and his heart is struggling to pump the little blood he still has. I need to inject him with blood as fast as possible and as much as possible, but if I do it with cold blood he might go in shock and may die. So I will warm it up to body temperature and give him through his vein."

Gibbs, after a little of hesitation, did what Grace asked and popped the blood bag into the microwave. As it warmed up, Grace disengaged the IV, closing the open line in the leg vein. She got a clean IV line end and installed it on Jethro's vein by his neck. The microwave beeped and Gibbs could verify that indeed the blood now felt a little lukewarm in his hands. He offered the bag to Grace, who prickled it with a needle and installed the line, squeezing it until the blood rushed through the transparent tube until it got to the end of it. Grace immediately connected it to Jethro's line and started to literally pump blood in the dog's vein. The dog whimpered, making McGee pet his head lightly trying to call him down.

"Sweetheart, I know it hurts but you need blood and I can't wait for gravity to do its job." Grace muttered, squeezing the bag and forcing more blood in Jethro's vein.

They stayed like that for five minutes, Jehtro's whimpers filing the air as Grace pumped the bag filling his veins with the much needed blood. Once the bag was empty Grace closed the line and disconnected it from Jethro's vein, bandaging him around the puncture wound. McGee carefully bagged Jethro's four legs, aware of the possible evidence his nails might have from the attackers.

"What now?" Gibbs asked.

"I need a place where he can rest and I may operate him again if any complication may arise. And you also need to swab him for evidence he certainly have from his attackers."

"Your vet clinic is out. It's still a crime scene." McGee muttered as he wrapped a piece of gauze around one of Jethro's many wounds.

"Take him to NCIS. Abby can swab the dog and Ducky will want to help out if there's need to perform another surgery." Gibbs said.

"And you will also need to check the DNA in those bullets." Grace muttered as she started to collect her surgical tools. Both McGee and Gibbs stared at the back of the redhead as she packed her things in her black bag.

"Why? There is going to be Jethro's DNA all over it." McGee said.

Grace shook her head, leaning over the counter and taking the Tupperware in her hands, balancing it so the bullets hit the sides. "No, I don't think so. You see, I've taken my fair share of .45 bullets from dogs and, from my experience these babies should have ripped Jethro's body apart. Yet they were embedded in muscle tissue in his chest just a couple of inches under the skin. So…"

"It was a low velocity bullet." McGee completed, seeing where she wanted to get with her line of reasoning.

"And there is only one thing that will slow down a bullet, yet keep its damaging abilities." Grace added, offering the container to Gibbs.

Gibbs smirked, "Another body."

Grace nodded, "there's too much blood on the floor and on the walls to come only from the dog sitter and Jethro."

"One of the attackers must have been hit in the struggle with Jethro." Gibbs muttered, receiving surprised glances from both youngsters.

"_One_ of them?" McGee asked.

Gibbs pocketed the bullets, eager to get them to Abby. "The little girl said that there were two men, one hit Jethro and stole the puppies and the other locked her in the room. And they had a strange fascination for Fahrenheit cologne for men." Gibbs said, showing the evidence bag with the orange bottle in his hand.

"Urgh, that thing is so sweet that makes my eyes water and my head hurt." Grace said with a grimace.

McGee wasn't amused. "You've never told me you don't like it."

"You've never used it while I'm around. If you did, I certainly would have."

Two officers came to the door, telling them that the police was already leaving the scene and offering any help. McGee ran a trembling hand through his hair, looking at Grace who after a few seconds of consideration nodded at him.

"You may help me carry the dog down. Hold the corners of the towel and don't jostle him too much." She looked at Gibbs, "I'll meet that Abby of yours and bring her up to speed." Gibbs sighed and put the container in her hand, who promptly dropped it into her surgery bag and close it.

The two officers did what she told them to do, slowly carrying the dog out of the apartment under the careful watch of the vet. She stopped at the door and turned to McGee, gazing at him with tearful eyes as he slowly approached her.

"Ah…"

"Grace?"

"_Find them,_ Tim. _Just find them_." She touched his chest lightly, her voice breaking at the end. He raised a hand and took hers in his, squeezing it lightly as she allowed herself to cry before letting him go and running after the two officers down the corridor.

"I will." He muttered to her retreating back.


	24. Two worlds colliding

_**Chapter 24: Two worlds colliding**_

Once Grace left, McGee came back into his once pristine living room now transformed into a crime scene. He looked desolated at the fingerprint dust used by the CSIs and the splatter of blood on his wall and counter, completed with a brown red pool of blood at his feet.

"McGee," Gibbs called in a soft voice, breaking the deep funk the younger man seemed to have sunk. "I need you to tell me everything you know that might shed a light on this."

"Boss, I…" McGee walked around the pool of blood, unwilling to mess with the scene. "It's just a dog I've rescued. It was there, bleeding in an alley and… I couldn't leave her there alone. Jethro wouldn't let me."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows at that. McGee sighed and shrugged, aware that he sounded like a wimp.

"Ah… Jethro took a shining for Freckles straight away. He's the one who actually found her. And he would have probably bitten me or growled at me if I've left her behind."

"So you're saying that_ your dog_ convinced you to give shelter to the bitch." Gibbs sounded almost amused at the idea of McGee being manipulated by a dog into doing anything.

"Ah… I know it sounds silly but… You should have seen them together, Boss. It truly looked like love at first sight. He simply sat by her side and wouldn't budge."

Gibbs nodded, looking around the room until his gaze fell on the empty dog bed. He decided then to approach another angle.

"What do you know of her previous owner?"

"Uhm…" McGee went to his computer desk, opening the first drawer and getting some papers inside. "Her name was Janice Winters; she was a Vet in Arlington." He shuffled the papers, getting the info he printed out on the dead woman a couple of days before. "She was an upstanding citizen, paid her bills, her mortgage installments were on time, no family to speak of, two speeding tickets issued on remote parts of town around dawn…"

"Where?"

There was the noise of rustling of papers until McGee found the info. "Ah… near Rock Creek Park."

"Why would a single woman do early in the morning in a Park?"

"Ah... maybe she went to a walk her dog." McGee suggested, receiving a glare from Gibbs. Shrugging, McGee put the papers down on his pc table. "Boss, either way, there's nothing in her life that even suggests that she was a danger to society or that she would have killers after her."

"They weren't after her, McGee. They were after her dog. What about the flyer we've found in Grace's clinic?"

"That's simply wrong. They don't use mutts for research."

"Why not?"

"Because they have stronger resistance to worms, germs, virus and stuff. If you want complete control of the results of a research, you need to use purebreds so you may control the origin of the specimens used as well as have complete background of their forefathers."

"Which wouldn't be possible with mutts because you can't backtrack the whole line back to its source."

"Yeah. Same can't be said about purebreds. The American Kennel Association keeps strict records of litters born along with vaccinations, prizes worn, place of birth and so on. Mix breed mutts can't be tracked, Boss."

"Then why would they kill for a mutt then? What's so special about this specific dog?"

McGee ran shaking hands through his hair, feeling he was at his wit's end. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to focus on his breathing, his beating heart ringing in his ears, at the same time the images of the weekend bombarded his mind in rapid succession.

Grace coming over for dinner.

Their near kiss as they were by the computer.

The long wait for the birth of the puppies.

Jethro completely euphoric with the newborn litter and the exhaustion of the dam as she cuddled the babies.

His shower with Grace who had been covered with droplets of water shining in the difuse light of his bathroom. Her skin tasted like whipped cream and vanilla, then her red curls on his pillow as they've made love. Her gasps as he bit her neck leaving a hickey.

The intimacy shared as they kissed in the kitchen while they prepared breakfast and finding the strange message in the computer…

_I dream of bunnies…_

He opened his eyes, his brain abruptly hitting the brakes and literally leaving rubber marks on his thought processes. He looked horrified at Gibbs, remembering word by word of his conversation with Freckles and the typed text, as well as Grace's assurances that she had not written it. The older man noticed how disturbed he looked, immediately taking a step towards him, silently demanding him to share his thoughts.

"Boss…"

"What's in your mind, Tim?"

McGee turned and looked at his computer, staring in shock at it. He sat like a rock on his computer chair and booted it up, eager to check if… maybe… no… it couldn't be. It was too crazy to be truth, but still it might be just… why would someone try to mess with his head like that? And even more important, if this was truth… How those men who killed mercilessly two people had figured out how special Freckles could be? How? How?

"McGee?"

No response.

"McGee!"

The initialization screen disappeared and McGee immediately went searching the small text file he had saved in his desktop. "Boss, there was a message in my computer Sunday morning."

"What type of message?"

"Ah… you know… people who have pets they…" Gibbs leaned over McGee's shoulder, waiting for him to explain, making him fluster a little at the admission he was about to make. "We… we _talk_."

"Talk?"

"Yes, we talk to our pets. Some people talk to their plants and there are actually some studies that say that makes them grow greener and…"

"McGee?" Gibbs wasn't amused.

"So what?"

"Ah… I talk to my dogs, Boss."

"You… _talk_." Gibbs had to work very hard to keep his facial expression calm.

McGee nodded.

"To your dogs." Gibbs added and at that, a small smirk graced his lips.

McGee nodded.

"Seriously?" The smirk became a full grin.

The younger man became flustered, preferring to look at the screen than to his supervisor's laughing eyes. "Boss, you build boats. I talk to my dogs. Both actions help us relax and alleviate stress."

"What your strange habit of talking to a canine has to do with the two dead bodies we've had today?"

McGee clicked the document open, finding again the message that has been blinking in the back of his mind since he had found it. "Because I've asked Freckles what dogs dream about and when I woke up the next morning I've found this in my computer."

He moved his chair aside so Gibbs could read it on the bright led screen. The older man squinted at the tiny letters, making McGee move the mouse and change the zoom of the text. Gibbs grunted in thanks, vocally acknowledging the gesture. He read the few lines in silence and, after he reached the end, turned to McGee with a question in his eyes.

"And…"

"Boss, Grace didn't write this."

"And..."

"There was no one in the house to do this. I've checked the time of the creation of the file. It was the middle of the night, after I've left to… ah… we … Grace and I left the puppies and the dogs alone. I wasn't hacked. I've checked. There was no sign of invasion in my system and still there was this message here the following morning, giving me exact answers to questions that I only asked Freckles."

"Are you suggesting that your dog typed this text?"

McGee sighed loudly, looking forlornly to the empty dog bed and the pool of blood where Jethro had laid a couple of minutes before. "I don't know what I'm talking about anymore, Boss. But Grace hadn't heard my questions. Freckles did and… there are other things."

"Like what?"

"Her attention span is unheard of. Dogs can't by nature stare down a human as they are just bundles of energy eagerly wanting to do this and that yet she can stay hours without end unmoving just staring at me, almost as if she could understand every word I've said."

"That's a common thing with pet owners. They always think that they pets understand them. And it's a proven fact that the longer a pet stays with a person, the more the dog acts like its owner."

"That's not the same thing." McGee turned to the text, "What about this? She mentions her previous owner, Janice, in a short nickname as if she was used to do it. And thanks me for helping her in her time of need."

"What about this two here?" Gibbs points to the last line, where two names appeared.

"I haven't researched those two yet."

Gibbs glared at his younger agent, his raised eyebrow almost showing his thoughts that were more to 'What are you waiting for?' than 'So what?'. McGee moved his chair towards the desk, immediately starting to type. Gibbs stood up and waited as the usual humming of energy of the running computer lowly buzzed in the air, mixing with the constant typing and grunts of displeasure coming from McGee whenever he found something he didn't like. Gibbs decided to use this time to explore a little his probie's apartment, going around and stopping to study the overflowing bookcase.

There were books from criminology, advanced math, mixed with several crime and thrillers romances and how-to-do books. He couldn't help a little grin as a tiny book caught his eye. It was _How to Build Wooden Boats: With 16 Small-Boat Designs_ by Edwin Monk. He thumbed its spine, took it from the bookcase, opening it and appreciating the beautiful traditional designs made in detailed line drawings giving a step-by-step way to build veritable works of art.

Gibbs had the same book at home, but his own copy was filled with notations and comments, results of many years building boats after boats following these designs.

"Boss?" McGee's soft call broke Gibbs' reverie, bringing the older man to his side.

"What did you find?"

"Ah… it's interesting what I didn't find. The only mention of a Travis when I cross-reference with a Lemuel is a cold case investigation in a brutal murder in California back in the eighties."

"Really?"

"Apparently there was a shootout in the house of a Travis Cornell being investigated by the local police with the help of the NSA."

"NSA?"

"The special agent in charge's name was Lemuel Jackson."

"Why a NSA agent would investigate a murder in California?"

"Maybe because there were a string of gruesome murders in the area, all being investigated by NSA and … they were all deemed cold after a while and archived away."

Gibbs took a chair and sat down beside his agent, "Who is this Lemuel Jackson?"

McGee bit his lower lip, totally focused on his search popping in his screen. "Well, as far as I can see, he is…" There was a flicker in the screen, then a small alert appeared on the corner of McGee's screen, prompting the man to make a dash to the keyboard, starting to type frantically doing something Gibbs had no idea what it was.

"McGee?"

"Crap! Don't you… ahh… don't you dare!"

"McGee?"

"What's happening?"

"I'm being hacked!"

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

_**San Francisco  
>Hidden lair of Sant'Anna<br>Hacker extraordinaire  
>Part of the Watchers' group in the Bay area<strong>_

A lanky man was hunched over his keyboard typing furiously, his glassy blue eyes flying from one LED screen to another in his high tech lair, multitasking as several searches appeared before him. He bit his lip and started a worm virus on the computer he had just invaded, immediately starting to download its contents to a server almost impossible to track in the World Wide Web, so he could access it later.

Without taking his eyes of the screen, he moved one hand and grabbed the cell phone in his pocket. He hit speed dial number 2, waiting for the call to connect.

"Hyatt's residence."

"I may have found something on Freckles. Do you still have Lemuel in DC?"


	25. New allies

**_a/n: I truly apologize for the delay in posting this. ff dot net simply kept kicking me out the whole week.  
><em>**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chapter 25: New allies<br>_**

It was a battle fought through optical fibers, zeros and ones in endless sequences. Thousands of megabytes of information being thrown into the World Wide Web as two masterminds collided. Yet Gibbs had lost track of time and had no idea of what was happening as he watched McGee mutter under his breath as he typed in rapid sequence trying to fend the invader of his computer.

"What's going on, McGee?"

McGee's sigh was filled with exasperation.

"This little creep has just hacked my computer and he's trying to download my hard drive. But I've written a program to protect my system specifically from this type of invasions and I'm hijacking his signal back to the source until I… get …" McGee bit his lower lip and clicked enter, making the image of a room flicker in his screen. "Gotcha, you bastard."

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Let's see… let's see." Sant'Anna kept typing, a number two pencil between his teeth being slowly chewed as he studied the info on his screen from behind his glasses.

"Ah… that's interesting. His name is Timothy McGee, he's an NCIS agent. Fairly decent education. Good income. Seems to be a decent guy." Sant'Anna spoke to someone by his side, his pale blue eyes flickering to a hack he did on Timothy's bank savings. "Not bad for a Fed. Here says that he's made a couple of purchases in his credit card very familiar to us. Dog food, dog shampoo, Alpo, right by the time our little friend disappeared… what do you think, Newton?" the hacker turned to his right at the exact moment a big dog head appeared by his side, its eyes also looking curious at the screen. "Do you think he has our Freckles?"

The big mutt – a mix of German shepherd and Labrador from the same litter Freckles was born - whined a little before letting a long howl, apparently giving his opinion to the lanky man. The dog then lowered its head and touched the man's hand, pushing the mouse slightly to the left. The man smiled, moving the hand to scratch the dog between the ears. "Well, I think it's worth the investigation."

"I couldn't agree more," a young voice came out of the speakers, startling Sant'Anna and making him look around spooked.

"Who's there?"

"I'm the man who's going to take you down, you creep." The screens flickered for a moment before finally going black. The only screen still working had the _Blue Screen of Death_ showing that the system had frozen with a couple of words splattering in it, making the hacker attack his keyboard trying desperately to overcome the invasion.

"I don't know who you think you are, kid, but you will be nothing but a memory in the digital world when I'm done with you: no credit cards, no savings, no social security number. You will be just…"

There was a maniac laugh coming from the speakers, with absolutely on joy in it. "Sure, I'm so worried about your puny threats. I have questions and I expect answers, otherwise your nice little setup will be just tech junk after I wipe it all out." That caught the hacker's attention, making him stare at screen flabbergasted.

Sant'Anna finally realized the voice was coming from the computer, making him look with wide opened eyes to the small camera on the top of his middle screen.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me, buster."

A small smile appeared on Sant'Anna's lips as he pushed his glasses over the bridge, his blue eyes staring into the camera aware that the kid had a perfect image of him in his computer. "How did you hack me, kid? Nobody has ever done that since that chick from Austria double dared me to help her hack the MI6 files on her father."

"I don't want to hear from your exploits, I want to know where my dog is."

Sant'Anna frowned at that, turning to look at his own dog before glaring at the camera. "What… are you telling me that you don't have Freckles with you?"

The other hacker, that Sant'Anna now knew was the very NCIS agent he had been invading his system, stayed in silence for a moment, before his voice came back again.

"I have two people dead, one traumatized kid, my living room became a crime scene, my own dog took two bullets in his chest and might not survive the night just because he tried to protect Freckles and her litter, my girlfriend is freaking out and she could have been killed if her assistant's murderer had decided to wait for her. So stop! Stop playing games with me 'cause my patience is almost at its end! Where is Freckles?"

"Hot damn, kid. Are you telling me that they've found you already?"

"Who … what… Who found me? What are you talking about?"

"Listen kid, this is worse than what we were expecting. If they've found you and didn't think twice of breaking into your home, despite the fact you are obviously a Fed, then we're in deep shit. Do you know the dog park at the south exit of Rock Creek park?"

"Yeah, I've been there before."

"Good. Listen, be there in… let's say… one hour. One of us is going to meet you and explain everything."

"One of you?"

"Yeah, one of the Watchers. Everything will be explained, just be there."

"How can I be sure that you're not pulling my leg? How can I be sure you're not involved with whoever killed two people already and stole my dog and her puppies?"

Sant'Anna sat back on his chair, a hand going up to his goatee and scratching it lightly. "Kid, you can't. What you can do is get your butt to the park and meet Lemuel when he arrives there."

"Lemuel? As in _dark_ Lemuel?" There was a clear tremor in the kid's voice, making Sant'Anna realize that whether he realized or not he was already one of them.

One the Watchers.

"Kid, there's a lot to do and little time to get it done. Go to the park, meet Lemuel, he will explain everything to you. I hacked your system because I needed answers on little Freckles but if you don't have her, there's no point in pestering you on this. We're not enemies, we've never been, but you've stuck your nose into something too big to be mentioned in a fragile connection like ours here."

"Will this Lemuel explain everything?"

"Yes, he will."

The connection was restored, making the led screens flicker again and come back online. Sant'Anna couldn't help a delighted smile as his main screen showed a young man's face with piercing green eyes staring back at him.

Aparently, this Special Agent McGee was willing to put all his cards on the table.

"How will I recognize Lemuel?"

"Son, you don't have to recognize him." Sant'anna hit printscreen saving the image and immediately opened an email to send it to the ex-NSA agent in DC. "He will recognize you."


	26. Meeting Dark Lemuel

**_Chapter 26: Meeting Dark Lemuel_**

It was with certain trepidation that Gibbs and McGee drove towards Rock Creek Park. Night had already fallen over the city, bringing with it the biting winds from the North. It swept in whirlwinds lifting dust, leaves and papers from the floor, moving on the sidewalk a few feet ahead of the young agent marching towards an isolated concrete seat in front of the dog park.

As per mutual agreement, Gibbs decided to watch the meeting from the other side of the dog park, holding a coffee cup in a firm grasp of his hand and waiting for the meeting between McGee and 'Dark Lemuel', whoever that Lemuel might be.

He took a deep sip of his coffee, his blue eyes leaving his own agent nervously sitting across the park to finally land at the fenced area where several dogs along with their dogs owners enjoyed the first hours of the evening.

There were tiny, medium and huge dogs running around. Gibbs felt a small smirk blossoming on his lips as a calf sized dog with gruff gray fur dragged his tiny owner around, her short legs not par to the powerful muscles of the agile beast. He had for a tiny second the instinct of running towards her to help when she fell in an ungraceful heap on the floor, but he realized that everything was alright. She simply stayed on the floor exhausted until the dog backtracked and started licking her face, dragging pearls of laughter out of her chest.

It was particularly amusing to watch a tiny Chihuahua barking like a lunatic around the feet of a black and white Great Dane who stared down at it confused, trying to figure out why the little rat was annoying him.

Finally Gibbs' attention went back to the lone agent sitting on the bench being approached by a tall black man with a large brown dog.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

McGee could barely contain his nervous energy as he sat waiting for the elusive Lemuel. _Dark_ Lemuel.

Why would Freckles call him _dark_? Was he an evil man?

Was it the color of his heart? Why was he even considering the possibility that Freckles had written that message in his computer?

Freckles was _just_ a dog. A remarkable dog, but just a dog nonetheless.

There was absolutely nothing in the world of real possibilities that could explain why a dog would write him a message in his computer. And even if that was true, who had taught the dog how to read? Who had taught the dog how to write? Damnit, who had taught the dog how to _type_?

Dogs don't have our long fingers and opposable thumbs. Only primates did. And even though chimps had opposable thumbs it never meant that they could type.

Chimps can't type. At least as far as he knew they can't. Couldn't. Wouldn't.

_Oh man, he was going crazy._

McGee took a deep breath and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he tried to slow down his breathing and clear his mind of the ping-pong of thoughts currently making him a little dizzy.

And there was Jethro too. If Freckles was indeed carrier of a disease, or some kind of virus that made her a super dog, there was a very real possibility that Jethro was also infected. The dog had latched on the dam since the very first moment he had found her, never leaving her side. He ate with her, walked by her side, slept with her, slept…

Okay, not going there. Definitely _NOT_ going there.

_Not going there, not going there…_

A cold nose touched his hand, making him look up surprised at the intelligent eyes of a chocolate Labrador sitting on his hind legs right in front of him, his long tongue lolling out of its gigantic mouth leaving hot puffs of air.

"You seem troubled, son."

McGee gulped and looked up, finding a black sexagenarian looking at him with unreadable eyes studying everything about him. He was wearing corduroys, a white shirt and an old diamond sweater in blue and gray colors that had seen better days a long time ago, probably around the same time McGee had been in kindergarten.

His hair – at least the little still on his head – was completely white, matching the white teeth which made a startling contrast of his dark skin and lips.

"I am troubled." McGee admited in a low voice and he received an immediate whine from the dog that took a step forward and rested his head on his knee, blinking repeatedly as if trying to comprehend the human.

Acting by instinct, McGee started scratching between the dog's ears, receiving a satisfied sigh of the Labrador. The tall black man smiled at the scene and pointed to the empty spot on the bench, silently asking his permission to sit.

McGee looked around, not finding his contact or anyone remotely like him, nodded and left the old man sit, all the time petting his dog.

"He likes you." McGee looked at the old black man, a question in his eyes. "Dekko is not very trusting towards strangers. But he has a knack to reading people."

McGee smiled sadly, remembering one of his first conversations with Grace. "Someone very wise once told me that dogs are great judges of character."

"Yes, they are." The black man sighed loudly. "That's probably why Freckles trusted in you to protect her when she realized she was in trouble."

McGee's head whiplashed as he turned to stare at the old black man, gazing placidly to the dogs playing in the fenced area. He tried a couple of times to speak but nothing came out, making the old man smile thinly before turning to look at him.

"You… you're _dark_ Lemuel."

Lemuel Jackson, ex-NSA agent and current Watcher, smiled as he looked into the shocked green eyes of the young man sitting beside him.

"Yes, I am. And I believe you have something that belongs to me."


	27. The eyes have it

**_Chapter 27: The eyes have it  
><em>**

The young NCIS agent stared at the old black man, unsure if he should shout and demand explanations or grab the man and shake him until he revealed all his secrets.

"You may ask your supervisor to come sit with us." Lemuel smiled as he played lightly with his cane, rolling its handle between his fingers. "We won't bite."  
>McGee glanced towards Gibbs who was studying them from afar. He gestured that he should come along and after a small hesitation the older man started to walk towards them at the bench.<p>

"Who are you and what have you done to my dog?" McGee asked as his attention came back to Lemuel.

"_Your_ dog?" There was a hint of amusement in Lemuel's dark eyes.

"Yes, _my_ dog. I've rescued Freckles. I've cared for her. My girlfriend helped me with the litter when their time came and my dog – my first dog – took two bullets in his chest trying to protect her and her litter. So I don't care what you and your people might think you are but she's my dog and I want to know why people are dying or killing for it."

Gibbs finally reached them at the end of McGee's speech, his gaze moving from the dog to the black man sitting beside McGee.

"It's a long story, son. One that is not mine to tell."

"Then whose story is this?" Gibbs asked, folding his arms as the Labrador stood up and went to check him out, his cold nose touching Gibbs' feet and going up his trousers.

"Are you sure you want to get involved with this, son?" Lemuel's gaze went from McGee to Gibbs, stopping for a while on the ex-marine's face. "Once you fall into this particular rabbit hole, there's no way out."

"I was under the impression we were already involved. The only problem is that we don't know the particular details of it." Gibbs said, his gaze never wavering from Lemuel's face.

"Very well," Lemuel stood, his lanky frame taking a while to unfold completely until he was standing face to face with Gibbs. He firmed a hand on his walking cane and threw him a little smirk before looking down to the dog, "I believe we need to stretch our legs a little, Dekko."

"Hey," McGee immediately stood up. "I want answers."

"Walk with me, Agent McGee. It clears your head and it also interferes with any high frequency listening device pointed at us." Lemuel murmured as he followed the dog down the lane, his cane crackling on the asphalt at each step.

McGee gulped and threw a worried glance at Gibbs, before settling in a lazy step beside the black man. Lemuel walked slowly with McGee on his left and Gibbs on his right, the chocolate Labrador running and jumping in front of them.

"Do you think there's someone listening to us?" Gibbs asked just to receive a cryptic answer.

"They are always listening, Agent Gibbs."

"Who are you?" McGee asked, his gaze on the profile of the black man's face.

"I'm just what you see. An old man taking a stroll in the park with his dog." Leroy smirked lightly as he glanced at McGee. "The correct question is _Who was I?"_

McGee rolled his eyes at the black man's theatrics, getting a delighted laugh from him. "Son, you have too much to learn yet." Sobering a little, Lemuel started telling his tale. "For twenty-five years I was a loyal NSA agent, blindly following whatever my government asked me to do, covering up their messes and cleaning up their trash."

"What happened?" Gibbs asked.

"The Dog happened."

McGee froze, throwing a confused glance at Gibbs at the same time he stopped on the path as Lemuel leaned forward to pat his dog's head as it came by grinning with a broken branch in its mouth.

"Good boy." Lemuel said, taking the twig from Dekko and throwing it far away, smiling as the dog ran after it.

"What dog?" McGee was confused.

Almost distractedly, Lemuel kept his eyes on the Labrador who finally reached the branch and was coming back to them. "Have any of you ever heard of Banodyne laboratories?"

After a brief shake of the head from McGee, Gibbs answered. "Can't say I have."

"I'm not surprised. It doesn't exist anymore." Lemuel started walking again leaning heavily on his cane, "It was destroyed in a fire back in 1980's."

"What connection does Banodyne have with this dog?" Gibbs asked.

Lemuel stopped, glancing at the older agent with piercing black eyes. "Well, they've created it." He resumed his slow and steady walk, making McGee rush after him.

"Wait, you mean they've tested it, right? So the Dog was a test dog. They injected or infected something on him and…"

"No, son. _They've created it_." His words made both McGee and Gibbs stop on the path Lemuel took a couple of steps more before he noticed his audience wasn't by his side. He turned around, looking at them, his gaze studying each and every reaction to his words. "Recombinant DNA. Genetic research. Men shrouded in their righteous cloak of science who felt comfortable enough to meddle with God's creation. So they've tampered with God's creatures until they felt that they had achieved their objective."

"What objective?" McGee's curiosity was spiked by Lemuel's words.

"Create a weapon that they might use to their own goals."

"Stop talking in riddles, old man." Gibbs' patience was at its end. "What weapon?"

At that exact moment, Dekko came back and jumped in between the two men, dropping the branch at Lemuel's feet. The black man smiled at the dog and patted his head, receiving a satisfied whine in answer.

"They've created the Dog."

McGee's mind finally made the connection, making him open his mouth to speak but he suddenly couldn't. He glanced down to the Lab who took a step towards him and sat on his hind legs, staring at him with the a unblinking stare hauntingly familiar.

Freckles had the exact same stare.


	28. Harsh cold truth

**_Chapter 28: Harsh cold truth_**

"You've seen this before." Lemuel said in a low voice. "The uncharacteristic intelligence. The firm stare. The amazing ability to read your moods and foresee your reactions…"

"Ah come on, this is a load of bullshit!" Gibbs shouted angry at being led on. "Are you really thinking we are going to buy this crap that …" He pointed aggravated to the Lab, who just stared at him unblinkingly. "You've somehow created a superdog? Is he able to talk? Tap dance. Ah, come on!"

"He can't talk, as it would require a drastic change in his vocal chords thus nullifying the project's purpose."

"Which was?" McGee was frozen in his spot, his mind turning the story in several angles and whatever he had found was terrifying.

"They wanted a dog they could communicate with. They wanted a dog that looked like a dog and acted like a dog. However, he would be granted the ability to think like a human. And communicate, express himself, pass along orders or act as a spy if needed."

"Oh, man, this is too… precious." Gibbs ran a hand through his hair, feeling like he was really in a rabbit hole and that man they had just met was spouting fairy tale stories. "Are you really expecting me to believe this crap?"

"What happened?" McGee asked, his gaze finally leaving the lab and going up to meet Lemuel's.

"When Banodyne was destroyed, the Dog wasn't the only experiment that escaped."

McGee's breath hitched, his imagination going wild once again.

"I was called up to lead the search both for the Dog and the Outsider, the abomination those people had created just for the sake of science. No other specimens survived the fire. The Outsider was a monster whose sole purpose was killing. But the same scientists who gave self awareness to the dog gave the same awareness to the Outsider. And it hated its creators. It hated humanity in general. But above all, it hated the dog."

"What happened then?"

"Once free, the Outsider hunted the dog. We hunted the Outsider _and_ the dog. The government put a contract killer after the scientists who created both. It was a mess right from the beginning."

Lemuel saw the disbelief in the older man's face, his complete skepticism towards the elaborated story he was telling them.

"You see, our hunt was fairly unsuccessful because… we arrived too late. The Outsider found the Dog. But he had warned his Watchers of the incoming danger so they were prepared for his arrival. Despite the difficulties, the young family was able to kill it. They also were able to fight off the killer who had tracked them and kill him as well. When we finally reached them, they lied saying that both the dog and the Outsider were dead. I saw right through their lies but… I realized that it would be a crime to keep such pure creature as a prisoner in a lab somewhere. So I swore to keep their secret. So did everyone who has stumbled on their secret during the last decades."

"Janice… was she… McGee asked, sighing when Lemuel nodded affirmatively.

"She stumbled on the Watchers a couple of years ago. In exchange for her vow of silence, she was granted one of our mutt puppies. It was a great loss for us when she died."

"Any chance of it _not_ being an accident?" Gibbs asked.

Lemuel shook his head, one of his hands deeply in his pocket. "I've reviewed the investigation on the crash. There's nothing that indicates that it was a setup. The other driver had a congenital heart problem he wasn't aware of. His old ticker simply stopped and he died on the wheel causing the accident. There was nothing that could be done to save him as he was already dead before he crashed the car. Janice was killed on impact. She had serious whiplash and TBI injuries that even in a lower speed crash would still leave terrible sequelae if she had survived."

"TBI?" Gibbs looked at McGee who promptly explained.

"Traumatic Brain Injury. Quite common in high velocity car crashes and usually result either in death or permanent disability." McGee muttered, his eyes never leaving the old man and his dog.

Gibbs sighed, his gaze lowering to the chocolate Labrador standing between them and studying each human with curiosity. "Who are these people?" He raised his gaze to Lemuel who supported his weight on this two hands resting on the cane. "Why are they killing for puppies?"

"We have been under constant vigilance since the very beginning. We were able to keep a low profile but classified reports have been leaked. We don't know who have them now but there are rumors that they are trying to revive the project. The papers that explained how to successfully create another intelligent dog were destroyed with Banodyne, so in order to reopen this particular project they will need…"

"They needed a living specimen." McGee completed seeing for the first time the whole picture.

"And what could possibly be better than a dam with an incoming litter? They can train the puppies into total obedience right from the beginning, corrupting them to their own purposes and, as intelligence is an inherited trait, they will use the dam as a breeder."

"And… are you're saying that they…" McGee pointed to Dekko "… that Freckles is fully aware of everything? That she will … she will know what's going on the whole time she's in captivity?"

"They love, they hurt, they suffer just like us, son. Yet they somehow kept that intrinsic quality only dogs have: an innocence that can't be explained in human terms."

McGee shuddered as caramel freckled eyes flashed before his eyes, looking at him sadly as he sat on the floor and scratched behind her ears and poured his heart, his fears and his nightmares. He imagined now the same eyes filled with pain as she was subjected to the terrors of puppy mill farms, breeding over and over again in a filthy cage only to supply cute wiggling puppies for heartless scientists to test them, breed them and create killing machines. The idea was too terrifying to even think about.


	29. For or against us?

_**Chapter 29: For or against us?**_

Yet despite McGee's obvious believing nature, Gibbs wasn't willing to swallow the cock-and-bull story Lemuel had just thrown at their faces so he took his cuffs and approached the older man, ready to take him into custody.

"I've had enough, you're coming with us."

Lemuel simply raised his eyebrows at Gibbs and waited until he was into striking distance before raising his walking cane and hitting the older agent on his knee with it, forcing him to the floor. McGee was struck out of his stupor and tried to move towards his boss, just to be stopped by Dekko who jumped in front of him and growled, showing its sharp teeth.

"What the hell…?" Gibbs complained just to gasp out of air as Lemuel approached him and pressed the tip of his cane in his throat, almost cutting his airflow.

"Son, the book you've learnt from how to be a hard ass marine… Yeah, that one." Lemuel leaned over the struggling marine, forcing the tip of the cane down. _"I wrote it_. So don't think you're going to mess with me, boy, 'cause what I do, it means too much to be messed up thanks to two yahoo federal agents."

Lemuel put more pressure before letting go, leaving Gibbs gasping for air on the floor. The old NSA agent then turned to McGee, who had drawn his gun and was pointing to the growling dog.

"There's too much at stake for me to let you come blasting into our lives and take over an operation that is too delicate to stay in your hands. Too many lives that depend on the silence of those involved. So I have one question for you, son, and I expect you to give me the right answer. _Are you with us or against us_? Because if you're going to be a problem, be aware that I won't hesitate to finish you off right here right now. I may be old, but as I've just demonstrated here with your boss I'm in no way rusty. "

Lemuel's dark eyes were deadly serious as he stared at McGee who was breathing deeply as he considered his options. Finally McGee lowered his gun and took a step closer, ignoring the dog growling at his feet. Lemuel made a light gesture with his hand indicating that Dekko could step back, being immediately obeyed. McGee stopped only when he was staring Lemuel face to face, his nose just a few inches from the black man's nose.

"I don't care about your threats._ I just want my dog back._ And her puppies, I want them safe home where they belong."

Gibbs sat down on the floor and stared at the two men glaring at each other, observing a small smirk blossoming into the black lips of the old man. Lemuel glanced briefly at Gibbs, before grinning more openly.

"That, son, is the right answer." He wavered Dekko away and offered a hand to Gibbs, who after a second of hesitation accepted the offer of help. Gibbs started slapping away the dust and dirt from his back and trousers as Lemuel turned to McGee and pointed to his parked car a few yards away.

"We'd better hurry. There's a lot to do and little time to get it done. I've called up a Watchers's meeting and I still need something from the attackers to put trackers on them."

They started moving towards their cars, all animosity left behind now that they were united in the same purpose.

"You've mentioned this before… who or what are these Watchers?" McGee asked as he ran to keep up with the dog and the old black man.

"We're not their owners. We're not their masters. These dogs are sentient beings and in no way they are our slaves. They need our protection yet they would not hesitate to die protecting us. You don't choose one of our dogs. The dog chooses you. So we watch over them, protecting and offering them a family, therefore the term _Watcher_ was born."

"How many of you are there?" Gibbs asked as they reached Lemuel's car and watched as the old man open his pickup truck for the dog hop in.

After slamming the door Lemuel turned to Gibbs, an ironic smile gracing his lips.

"Agent Gibbs, they're still dogs. And it's been twenty-five years. Just do the math." He hopped in the driver's seat, lowering the window so Dekko could stick his head out. "You go ahead, I'll be driving right behind you."

Both agents looked at him quizzically before turning around and going to their own car. They hopped in and started the engine, driving away and being followed by Lemuel's pickup truck. Looking at the rearview mirror Gibbs could see Dekko's head hanging outside the window, its ears and tongue floating in the wind as they drove.

"McGee, what math was he talking about?"

He glanced briefly to McGee who was staring sightlessly ahead. He brought his gaze back to the road and almost missed the younger man's softly whisper.

"There are hundreds of them, boss."

"How?"

McGee closed his eyes and rolled Grace's explanation on dog physiology in his head, feeling a cold rush going up his spine as the possibilities popped into his mind.

"Depending on the breed female dogs go into heat one to four times per year, Boss. Male dogs can procreate at any time of the year. All they need is a willing female. If the original dog was from a large breed - I'm betting on it otherwise it wouldn't have survived the tests and the Outsider - a litter generally counts ten to fifteen puppies. And these… these Watchers cross-bred them with other large races to dilute the chances of being tracked back to the original Dog as whoever might run into the initial project papers would be only looking for purebreds. They would never seek mutts."

McGee opened his eyes and looked at Gibbs with astonished eyes. "We're talking about _hundreds_ maybe _thousands_ of intelligent dogs out there that need a house or a family to live with. All of these people have sworn to protect their secrets with their lives. Boss, he's right. _This is big_. This much bigger than us, than NCIS. Gosh, I can't even wrap my mind about the idea that this real. Really real."

"You've really bought his story, haven't you?"

"Boss, the bullet in my dogsitter's forehead was pretty convincing. Nothing was taken from my house but the litter and Freckles. Just my computer setup is worth a couple of thousand dollars and yet they've left it untouched. Is it really that hard to believe that science could advance so far?"

"I don't have problem with the science behind it."

"Then what do you have a problem with?"

Gibbs hit the arrow light indicating he was going to the left and took the faster lane, speeding up the car towards NCIS being soon followed by Lemuel's pickup.

"I've thought this kind of experiments were over and done."

McGee nodded minutely, his eyes going back to the road. "It hurts to think that someone in the Government knew all about this."

"And now we have to clean up their mess." Gibbs growled as he stepped down on the accelerator, eager to get back to NCIS.


End file.
